The sun is her mentor,
that orange ball of gas that
dances across the pale blue sky,
pulled along by an invisible string -
the same string that throws me to my knees
before her feet.
I find it in her eyes,
the fire that burns in the sky,
and also in her soul;
a passion born from coals
and lathered in desire -
my mistress of fire.
It is in this game that she reigns supreme,
the woman of fire
who passionately controls each breath I take.
The Devils prized orator,
it is the eloquence of her speech
that keeps me playing with fire,
the burns beautiful reminders of
her incredible power.
And if I were to die,
I’d die amongst flames,
awaiting our demise
with the taste of lust still thick on my tongue -
for she is fire,
my Mistress of Fire.