The Devil Laughs as Everything Burns

As my fingers touch the clean white paper
It morphs into a black mass
With red orange tongues licking the air.
 

Trying to extinguish the mess,
I reach out for another,
But that, too, turns into a dance of flames.

 

With my back turned I shove my hands into my pockets,
Keeping my dysfunctional fingers away,
For everything I touch turns to dust.