by, Angela M. Carter
Sir, are you fire? If not, why do you dance with the rubbish-why do you seek only those that ignite you feverishly and ignore those that soothe you? You are what Godâ€™s hands left reluctantly-chromosomes of confusion, someone he couldnâ€™t discard, no matter the consequences, but hoped good would find you. You are a canvas with blinking eyes-no matter where I go they follow me and convince me that I can extinguish the devil within you.