She dances in her queerest delight
thunder resounds from her exothermic light
Blues, purples and her searing laces of orange
she is a crimson hot woman horridly scorned
Her stilettos of black are a dead man's delight
torturous weapons of a woman's evil plight
Tango with her and you will get burned
her torso climbs and twists with a yearn
She hustles your breath as she writhes round about
smoke ensues, her charred lips make you shout
Her lecherous soul, Eros in nature
an evil Aphrodite, infernal nomenclature
thunder resounds from her exothermic light
Blues, purples and her searing laces of orange
she is a crimson hot woman horridly scorned
Her stilettos of black are a dead man's delight
torturous weapons of a woman's evil plight
Tango with her and you will get burned
her torso climbs and twists with a yearn
She hustles your breath as she writhes round about
smoke ensues, her charred lips make you shout
Her lecherous soul, Eros in nature
an evil Aphrodite, infernal nomenclature
Although fire can be good and bad, this struck me today as I watched the flames in our wood-stove.
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