Because a stranger walked into her thighs
with a spark in his eyes. The one she mistook for love.
But love would never truly set her on fire;
exploit the places her mother had marked forbidden
until all that was left is a word that replaces beauty
with doom. Riddle this: green heart exchanged for ash
is called? Even the clouds had witnessed the extinction
of existence. It was then she knew she was both garden
and Adam in this story. A haven for dead bodies.
So, boy, there is no love in me to give.
When you cup my chin, I mistake your hands
for matchsticks. After all, wasn’t it your father
who set a forest on fire?