| The Bum Striking matches with anxious fingers Paper ignites and smog is exhaled The chest breathes deep With nicotine and poison Simple yet disgusting Strike another match Between finger and thumb Stirring the melted wax With naked tips The candle's glow is comfort A shine like a pupil Eyelashes like prairie fire Hypnotized and amazed By a coal black iris The amber-stained rings Of these boils along the palms Fail the test Milk skin and silk hair The softest lips and warmest tongue A body broken with a touch Gently cradled in her arms |