Don't You Smell My Burning Fingers?

Don't you smell my burning fingers
As my hand a moment lingers
On the burner on the grill?
I hold it there by force of will.

I smell the acrid jolt of pain,
Endorphins flowing to my brain,
And keep it there yet longer still.
I hold it there by force of will.

The moment dances in the flame,
throes of pleasure with no name.
Where there is pain, there is life still.
I hold it there by force of will.