Flames

His black velvet hair
Twisted around a finger
And was illuminated
By the jealous sun.

It could not do a thing
But it did
Fantasize about revenge
Hoping one day
He'll just go bald.

It knew
If it were hot enough
To scorch his hair
Off
It would be dying
Too.

Perhaps it would have
Felt better
Knowing
He'll burn in hell.