Liability Of Explosions.

I want the sparks in a turmoil coiled battery,

I want them flickering like street lamps decaying at the brisk of dawn,

I want electricity trickling down the pavements of my scabs,

When your fingertips wander at the lanes of my skin.

I want the echoes of our conversations

Blazing fireworks at every corner of my skull.



I want us to be in flames, 

Burning, churning, intertwining into incomprehensible magma.

I want an extravaganza of paroxysm,

At the collision of our cells;

I want us to exist in the span of an explosion,

Only to collapse and disintegrate into the scraps of a purged city.