Look.
Look at his eyes.
No,
Into his eyes,
Beyond the twinkle;
Into the gloom,
Towards the swaying images.

See the flame?

If you could walk in there,
If you'd dare,
Maybe if you realised,
You'd burn too
In the raging heat,
Surrounded by the fire
Lust;
Find wordless pain
Imprinted
Upon his retina
By the demon
Behind.

And you'd run,
Without pause for thought;
Not stopping until home,
There dread washing upon you,
Sandbags splitting around you.

Yet you'd be back,
Not into the furnace
But close enough
To make it clear
You wouldn't piss on him

Though he's burning already.