naz poetry spot

when the fire dies...

as you told me when the fire dies...
it has turned cold
he has grown old
sold you promises, lies... not too wise...
he played his card... fold!
tries but can't be bold
can't hold on to the same lame game
can't blame you when the fire dies...
neglectful of such a prize...
won't tame your desire
now he cries over cold ashes

shame on a man
who can't ventilate a flame
keeping every amber glowing red hot
not afraid to blow away the grey ashes
to reveal your passion, and keep it hot in every fashion
fuels attraction, fair task to ask...
white dust may settle on my hair and face
i will never tire my lust for you, hmmm to taste!
as long as you still feel hot flashes
i get fairly dirty to fuel a fire
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
what does he do when the fire dies?

shame on a man
who can't see a woman as a flame
watch it dance against the wind
it's shape reminiscent of your feminine sex
the curves, the dips, the bounce
lips between your hips,
target the cat's eye, the burning bush
worship it like the first to discover fire
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
what does he do when the fire dies?

shame on a man
who can handle your heat
too weak to freak
to desire your fire
learn to light the wick of a candle
learn when to blow, see liquid wax flow hard
when your soul felt heat
your heart welts to beat
and melt it again!
let the flame reach it's peak
till it can withstand the rain
ashes to ashes, dust to dust
so what do you do when the fire dies?

damn shame...
he won't tame your desire.
retire him... fire him...
hire a new cook who,
wants it...
blows it...
takes it...
fuels it...
keeps it hot! having a burning daily need of you...
damn i'll touch it...
let the motherfucker BURN!
i'll guard your flame
while i lick my lips...
so smile, let's bake cookies =)

-Naz