The first touch of the lips is electric; flashing lights behind closed eyes.
Light sparks fire as matches to kindling, fit to consume the self in its entirety.
Fire smolders slowly in each movement, rendering self-control a laughable illusion.
The refrain is what does it, though.
Before any time at all has passed the barrier between one and the other shatters like fragile glass.
Leaving only the infinite pause of being utterly one.
Lips slide along each other purely on instinct; intent is irrelevant and outdated.
Chemicals in the midst of an explosion don't have a choice in the matter either.
Sparks fly as in a thunderstorm, and the act is no more predictable.
Ultimately there is no energy left separate.
Not one and the other, but both - like an exploding star,
Fused together in the smallest fraction of eternity.
