Setting Fire To

I can imagine the bright, snatching lights,
And the girls made of dust and smoke;
Glamour, and brittle bones, held together only
By a corset-cage of ribs. Perfume,
Alcohol, hairspray. Strike a match,
They might explode. A volatile spark from a cigarette,
Then burning, burning, pink flames;
A violet, bloody blaze. But I digress.
I did not mean to imagine a violent death
For the magazine girls. The glossy paper dolls,
So flammable, doused in the liquor of fame.
It would only take a lighter, a flame in the dark,
Before they burn from the magazine page.