v.6 >> Easy Saturday Edit

He strikes a blaze.

Not with alcohol and gasoline,

But with slow and steady friction

Between his legs and hers.

Over time, releasing breath

Fanning sparks to flames

As he dances in her veins.

v.5 >> A Woman's Needs Edit

A woman does not need

To know his size

Or of his seed

Over dinner and conversation;

Nor for him to gravel at her feet,

Wondering what he will

Of what’s beneath her sheath.

What a woman needs is

To know his eyes,

And if he’ll keep

Up with her in conversation;

Or if that feeling when they meet

Gives her special thrill

To pleasurably bequeath.

A woman does not need

The liquid of his

Talented tongue, tackling

Hasty and hard atop her own;

Followed by the feeling

Of his manly goods

Pressed and pulsating upon her.

What a woman needs is

The taking of his

Hand, happily holding

Lightly and lengthily with her own;

Followed by the feeling

Of her womanhood

Wildly warming within her.

A woman does not need

A drenching and dousing

Of alcohol and gasoline

Followed by a stricken match,

Brushed all too quickly

Betwixt her breast or on her ass

As if to hurry her to burst.

What a woman needs is

Confessing, announcing

That her beauty is obscene;

Followed by hands on her back,

His lips brushing slowly

Upon her mouth then on her neck,

Causing her to hunger and thirst.

A woman does not need, necessarily, a man

Who rides up on some noble steed, just because he can.

What a woman needs,

And what she desires,

Is a man who has

Patience

In the art of starting fires.

**Thanks, Jillian, for the point-of-view suggestion!

v.4 >> Lost Hiker Edit

The flame will be short lived if it is to be engaged

No alcohol or gasoline; no match to strike its blaze.

Just the slow and steady friction of Earth’s twigs and my own

As I battle barren wilderness, my future is unknown.

I release a visible breath to fan a flicker to a flame.

As rain wrestles through my skin; and cold dances through my veins.

I want some warmth to burn me, from my insides, right on out.

Stress stifles my survival skills, and I become a lout.

A puddle now exists where my fire was once to be.

I settle down to rest and give in to apathy.

My pasty white shell trembles, my rationale expires

I have no freaking patience for the art of starting fires.

**Thank you, Lisa Kirby Art, for the point-of-view suggestion!

v.3 >> The Dirty Edit

Between her twigs and yours,

Drench her body.

Use the red burning head

To seek slow and steady friction

Over time, releasing breath

To fan her flicker to a flame

As she bursts from her insides, out.

v.2 >> Serial Killer Edit

To properly light a woman

Seek violent and vehement friction

Between her limbs and yours.

Trapping and releasing breath

Licking her flicker to a flame

That involuntarily causes heat

To dance with sorrow and pain

Through her pulsating vein.

To properly light a woman

Pull her as a resistant log

By her stumps in the dark.

Let debris and dirt

Indian-burn the surface

Of the lands in which you planted seeds

Of stinging nettles

Blistering her being.

To properly light a woman

Drench her body in alcohol and gasoline

Then strike a match and use its

Red burning head to char her charm.

Her voice coupled with the screaming

Of the orange gaseous tongue

Creates a smoldering symphony

Like you’ve never heard before.

To properly light a woman

Burn her in the depths of dirt

Until she wears her insides on her outs

No more sound as smoke smothers shouts.

And when her ending comes around

Find a way to warm the ice in your chest

Another woman, another girl because

You know the next will want it

More than any of the rest.

v.1 >> The Original

The Art of Starting Fires

To properly light a woman

Do not drench her body

In alcohol and gasoline

Then strike a match

And use its red burning head

To blacken her pure skin.

For in this manner

A flame will be short lived

If it is to be at all.

To properly light a woman

Seek slow and steady friction

Between her twigs and yours

Over time, releasing breath

Fanning her flicker to a flame

That dances through her veins.

For in this manner,

She will burn for you

From her insides, out.

Have patience in the art of starting fires.

Introduction

A while ago, my mother stumbled across some blog of a man who created an artistic skull a day. This tugged on some sort of wild hair of hers and she has been trying to get her own creative 365-days-of... thing going on for fun.

I, myself, don't go an entire day without creating something. Be it a photo, a painting, writing, a meal presented nice and pretty on a plate or even just an impromptu piece of art made from a straw wrapper and other utensils on the table at a restaurant, I'm always creating something. That said, I was interested in following the footsteps of Mr. Skull Man and my mother.

It could have been very simple for me to just say "365 Expressions" and leave it to random art I decided to create for the day. But that isn't exactly my exacting nature. So it has taken some time to come up with something I really think might stick.

And this is how it came to me: Mom and I are besties. Besties who have very different minds. So, something that I may think is perfectly brilliant in its originality, she will say, could use some work in the x or y of an area. Or, when she tells me of a statement she would like to express in some painting or mosaic she'd like to do, my ideas of how to express that concept are always completely different.

I wrote a poem the other night, thinking it was pure genius. I'll admit, I did hear in my head, before presenting my mother with the poem read aloud by yours truly, a little gasping and applause in response. I did not receive this reaction, but rather a look of thought, a moment of silence, and then the question: "do you want me to be your mother or your editor?"

Long story short, it arose in my mind that it would be fun to take one poem that I penned and, over 365 days, edit it daily, changing it into something new. It could be completely different or only slightly so. But I think it should be fun.

So, if you'd like to follow along and see what happens and where this little concept goes, please do. If not, I'll just have all of the fun without you!