she is for me a regrettable passion
my Dixie is, she is, and i swear
that i will not try to absolve myself of her
she flits, with invigorating madness across my skull
well, the insides, anyways, like always
she picks the posies that linger, on the fringe of my imagination
and even when i tell her to stop stepping on the grass
she temps the fates, and begins to tread there anyways
my Dixie likes to play with fire but does not believe in burning
she yearns, like most women, only more forcedly so
for the pretty dawn after dusk, and for a new mountain
to conquer in the dark
she always finds them, those mountain men
that she can climb, and wreak havoc upon
where she, denudes them of their forestry and then, burns
and burns brightly upon them, the fire of her prurience
she dances heartily and with expressive determination
my Dixie, in her dress of gauzy silk, that rustles
like leaves on autumn days, but she, she will never die
and does not need to re-flower herself in June
then again, i don't think Dixie's had a flower for ages
maybe that's why she insists on picking mine
delights in it even, while i, i wither with the time
growing perhaps more transluscent, than desirable
my Dixie, she lingers where most men fear to walk
she is invincible, a Superman in woman's clothing
she will not bow down, nor will she fail to finish a race
she is, a modern evil in witches clothing, but still
she does not believe in burning, no, my Dixie doesn't
she will harvest hearts and then grind them, food for dogs
in sausage form, that she likes to eat, i think, as much as they
they cannot fathom her, and then, when i stop to think about it
neither can i
my Dixie feels a gladdening in the conquering of men
she wields her body like a shining sword
and bleeds them, bleeds them dry
she thrusts her hands happily into their flame
but, does not believe in burning
no, she does not believe in burning
not my Dixie.
no.
Nyx...
Author notes
another random thought, what a being, my dixie has become. she flourishes, even while i wither
You can take whatever interpretation of this as you think up, since, there really was none, when i'd written it 
Written September 3rd, 2004
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Ok, so my interpretation of the burning is that these men love her...they burn for her, much as you, her storyteller does. Yet, our darling Dixie does not believe in love, wishes not to plunge herself into that lake of fire that can consume the hardiest of souls. She is eternal in her coldness. Since, perhaps, she doesn't feel like she CAN be loved...she toys with the love others try to give her, twists it to her own desires and molds it into something more tangible, four letter words...cock...fuck...cunt...cold. She only takes because, maybe, she feels she is not worthy of receiving. She is a punisher.
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To be honest with you, I wish I knew where Dixie sprang from.
N... -
With every chapter in your Dixie "diatribe" I initially feel I will be
bored with a redundant, unrequited subject yet each becomes as engrossing as the last...
This one happens to be stellar...
J+P -
i don't think she wreaks havoc upon the men, only upon this nameless authorial voice. saying she likes to play with fire, but does not believe in burning, suggests that she either does not understand cause and effect, or she believes herself exempt from all responsibility - but then, you say she burns brightly upon them; she seems a child with sexuality and power.
Edited on Sep 04, 9:13 because ''. -
oh!
i clicked on this in the promotions box hoping that i wouldn't find it too hard to comment on
but i loved this.
oh yes.
the repetition of "she does not believe in burning" made me happy because it's such a powerful line, to me it meant a hell of a lot, it can be applied to so many things..
i could relate really well to this to, i want to like quote it, " regrettable passion", sums up so much
it all had this kind of rhyhtm, kind of like a dance, whirling closer and closer to the flames yet never quite touching them...
im not a very good critiquer, cant quite do this justice.
but have some applause
much deserved.
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he want all my lighters, should i give them to him...
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