Apocalypse

 

 

I touch the hands

To keep from exploding

Knowing at kiss

Would consume me

And even the brief touch

Is too much

Lingering first on the finger tips

Then a spreading

Wild fire elsewhere

Beyond control

Searing to the bone

Scalding me

From inside out

This lust for life

Unseen

Only felt or tasted,

The linger desire

For more

Tingling at the tip of finger

Or tongue

Each a tiny flicker of flame

And heat

Leading to apocalypse