Grecian Fires

I saw you first in Crete; while the
mainland fires burned, dancing
out of control, you were standing
on the bar pulling up your black
silk dress, showing everyone your
lack of underwear. I saw deeper
into you then than you could have
intended, your vacuous hole exposed

for all to see. The islands were saved
from the flames by the sea; yet still,
in sex and bile, get burnt down regardless.