Firechild

To all the fires I’ve put to death,

Save for my own temerity,

Yield my life, and dust my pleasures.

But do not touch my flesh

Or graze my lips, however gently;

For whatever burns shall singe,

And what shall singe will

Scar, and blind —

Like Zeus’ flame,

Blinking swiftly upon Semele,

Making their universe of embers.