Tingle

All the lines
run down me
like metal stripes
or alien implants –
every nerve connected
one to one.

It’s not the touch
that does it,
its when the
eyes attach.
The sight becomes
imagination.

There is something ancient in your scent.

Fire becomes
to fire and
like repels
the like.
The current running
through me like a bolt.

Every sense
is heightened.
I will have you.
They will know.
You are outside me now
but not for long.

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