He wears natural fiber clothing
because, while cotton may burn,
nylon melts, sticking to skin.
She loves that about him; that foresight.
He keeps a stainless steel lighter,
always topped with fluid
and always in the right-front pocket of his jeans.
She reaches in often, even when
she feels no urge to burn.
The metallic click of the cover,
the sweet fumes touching her tongue-
these things send a thrill all through her
almost as sharp as when he comes home
smelling of sweat and ground steel and
welding residue.
She knows he's been playing with plasma then-
nothing is hotter than that.
