You are the burn of a paper cut,
on my highly sensitive skin.
A sharp pain, a quickly drawn ****** line.

You are the cold of a brain freeze,
on a hot summer day.
A few seconds of a heart on fire and a mind on ice.

You are the slams of my heart against my ribs.
Irregular, too fast, breathtaking.

And yet you are the ecstasy of my thoughts.
A trigger of uncontrolled feelings,
a spread of joy.
And I want more, and more, and more.