the ring:

The fire licked my legs like an eager pup.

I burned with pleasure, ignited at your touch.

It rose up in me like smoke.

The words still taste of magic on my tongue.

Spun sugar dissolving.

Tiny paw prints in the ash.

The same soot runs rivers on my face.

It all comes back around,

a ring has one beginning, one end.

At the doors of death I put my back to birth.

Hear my mother’s cries from the other side of the door.

I smell the smoke, 

I feel the burning.