My blood simmers, a slow burn rising,
hips caught in the rhythm of thunder.
I bite down hard, lips full of lightning,
sparks dancing reckless under my skin.

You—pressure wrapped in provocation,
all smoke and gasoline.
A matchstick grin, a slow ignition,
waiting for me to lean too close.

I’m burning up, got a fever for war,
grip locked tight ‘round my own restraint.
Do I want to ride this or wreck it?
Drown in the depths or make you beg?

The air is thick—molten, stifling,
like summer nights and bad decisions.
I move, and the earth shifts with me,
cussing in tongues unknown.

Don’t look at me like that—
or do.
I’m already halfway to combustion,
riding the wick ‘til the flame runs out.

Say one more word, and I swear—
I’ll either pull away
or sink deeper ‘til the world burns down.