it is too difficult to have just one,
each kiss a spark
in and of themselves.
lips in unison.
the heat is off
and yet I am still warm,
bare arms in the cold,
windows too clouded
to see the river
(that I suppose is)
flowing dark and whistling
into this night.
is this what electricity feels like?
like placing a sugar cube
on your tongue,
waiting for the volts
to hit your veins,
make them dance?
we are an entanglement
in the heart of an apple,
nestled in seed-stars,
wound in the white.
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