Flames licking with forked tongues,
curling like fingers wrapping seductively
in a frenzied dance of seven veils
on a bed of glowing ember
glimmering brightly orange and red
like the softest velvet and hardest gold.
Throwing sparks like shooting stars
cast helter skelter in the dark
flickering and fading like fireflies
painting dazzling streaks in the night,
cracking and snapping like a dancer’s heels
and a hundred tiny castanets 
accompanying the dance 
through twists and turns
building to a fevered fury
then waning, bowing to the night
to place one last warm kiss upon the air
when at last the dance is done.