Only She

She finishes his body to perfection,

Chopping, sculpting flesh,

Twisting and towering his sandstorm hair,

Lifting the skin to show how the fire lurks just beneath;

She burnishes him until the same fire shines on the surface.

Only she can make him gleam.

She slips into his mind,

- she knows all the ways -

Tossing aside the junk and jumble,

Sanding away the edges,

Paring him down to a nearly blank slate,

Bleeding-edge normality,

She thinks sometimes that their passion burns so hot it could ignite the world.

It doesn’t matter,

Only she can hear him scream.

Picture credit/discredit: author's own work