THURSDAY, JUNE 14, 2012
One of the things I think of most
when you are not around
is the feel of your fingertips
against my skin.
Your hand passing along
the fine hairs of my arm
is No Light, No Light
and I want to play it all the time
Me yell pretty someday
When a I close my eyes
I try to imagine
to name the feeling
the closest descriptions
are all tired
Men have pined like this before
Like a sparkler from a childhood
Caught it on the Fourth of July
along the edge of my skin
that doesn't burn
Someone tell me it is
Guy Fawkes Night
Because the sky is on fire.
Then suddenly I understand.
Timo Pitkämö and Tobias Kipp
are just another Watson and Crick.
Remember your hands and smile
they draw like pyrografie
like a the jawline of a dictator
on a young mans arms and eyes.
I have forfeited my revelation.
I have given back the fireworks.
I am climbing to the tallest spire
and transforming myself into a lightning rod.
I will make my heart my resistor
use my head to figure electric potential
Call it a mind shift
Call it Ohm's Law:
where I is the current
through the conductor
V is the potential difference
R is the resistance of the conductor
R in this relation is constant
independent of the current.
Call it horripilation.
Goose fleshed without
the lightning in a bottle
Did you want a Tesla Coil?
Lets go to Venezuela
You can call it a dream
In Catatumbo
You can call it
Relampago del' Catatumbo
Just don't call me Relampago
Because I am no superhero here
-Writeredhanded
Posted by Joshua Strother at 5:18 PM
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