Needles and Loam
foaming at mouth,
she gnashes her vicious teeth at me,
shutting me up as I shy away like wounded prey
her calamity is stored cool beneath the surface,
oozing out like cactus prickles
in the middle of the desert, her flame is welcome
because contrary to popular opinion it’s cold out here
and you are much more likely to die from the bite of the frost than that of the fire
providing me with reason behind her ashy glares and glassy eyes
she’s succulent as the heat burns out