Burn

It’s not easy, you know,
for my eyes to dazedly reflect yours,
then for all of it to come crashing down,
burning like flames,
bringing me down like cracked glass. 

But the smirk still curves my lip,
and I still wink amusedly at you;
You may have run the course of your knife,
but you won’t see the damage. 

The smoke puffs out and surrounds me,
the silvery fog is my monarchial cloak,
and I revel in the feeling,
the scintillating jewels cutting my fingers.

The velvet trails behind me as I strut,
a tinkling laugh escaping my lips,
as you stand there, fuming,
and I gather a little sunshine for myself.

But your horns don’t recede so easily,
and neither have mine,
so we collide in a shower of sparks,
but your face reflects pain, and mine doesn’t. 

And the smirk still curves my lip,
and I still wink amusedly at you;
You may have run the course of your knife,
but you won’t see the damage.

Derision arches my eyebrows,
the dark slowly begins to fade,
and suddenly the blinding rays,
don’t seem so bad anymore.

The velvet trails behind me as I strut,
a tinkling laugh escaping my lips,
as you stand there, fuming,
and I gather a little sunshine for myself.

And my eyes glance up to meet yours,
as we go our separate ways,
for you’ve made your choice,
and I, have made mine.