Kindling

I suck spit,
Eat shit,
Bite thighs,
Get lost in eyes
Of the deserts' green turquoise; she drives the boys mad.

She loves bad,
Fucks good,
Screams mad,
We really could
Let the secret take its nature in our forgetting.

She says she supposes
Her fire is dwindling,
So I cut her lovely roses
Into bits of kindling.