Charred Beauty

I remember when you danced with a flowing gown of dying embers, as the raging fire roared. I remember slippers of glass, made simply of charred sand, polished clear. And with that wrecking ball of a tongue of yours, you shattered my heart, dear. For, I long for your embrace, as the flames flicker wildly in your eyes. And with perfect grace your beauty lights up the room, engulfing all in magenta like flames spelling out our doom. This fitted femme that flirts with danger is but a charmed beauty.