I give love
love love
with the one look
of my eye
eye eye

I excite your lament ion
charge it
high up high
uuuuu
potentially ready
a ***** cation

I am your aesthetic
flaming electric
activate your kinetic
stop the resistence now
don’t drop voltage
difference I create is continually asymptotic

I am the variation in your magnetic
I am the field of your *** ethic
if you not behave
I become your inelastic scatter
geomagnetic storm
high potential
chemical desire
mechanical fire
radioactive disaster
through your interior
I roar blast break
silence the rocks
shake the lights
reverberate in your head

I give love
love love
with the one look
of my eye eye eye
I excite your lament ion
I am your voltaic lion

Your touch used to feel like lightning; igniting my entire body
as if it were christmas lights you meant to wrap around the entire world.
Your fingertips followed dance routines on my arms,
leaving behind a path of hot embers right down to my thighs.

You set off fireworks in my chest the moment our skin
brushed against each other's ever so slightly;
those Roman Candles were almost lethal,
but it seems your extremities could revive me even after death.

You'd trigger static and sparks that would light up my eyes
and leave a tingling sensation through every limb.

I don't know what you did, my dear -
you materialized me -
made me inanimate just by your touch,
only awakened by the currents you transferred through your palms.

It's as if I were a light bulb,
plugged in forevermore in the socket of your grip.
You were electricity, darling, and I was water; my voltaic shock was inevitable.
You were fire and a sweet, sweet tempting bomb of affection I couldn't resist -
                        tick,
                                 tick,
                                          tick,
                                                    tock.
With all that energy we were bound to burn out.

But, in some attempt of insanity, you reached for my hand today
and I swore I saw those sparks start to pour out of your fingers once again.
And I almost reached out, drawn in by the flare
and ready for the charge to hit me like a murderer's bullet

almost

but instead,
I flinched.

- g.d.

Bring me your tired souls,
Of flesh burned
Marked limbs with numbers,
Age is nothing to me.

Still thy beating heart
Your song trembles,
Words of melody
Writes thy voice.

To thee a single petal
Of motionless thought,
Coalesce into thine mind,
You are the one.

Surging distress,
Lament one’s dying love.
For thy heart beckons
It’s hymn to me.

Indulge thyself
Into the sea.
Searching for love’s
True self.