if i had called your name tonight, would you have been here?


your touch on me lifts me up like how the fire ignites and i see the sparks fly. i don't know why but there's something tangible about flames. they seem to be dancing gracefully at every beat - yet not quite so, sometimes they look as if they are fighting against one another to escape from their fiery souls; 

your touch feels like an electrical transmission, and i feel the charges crawling under my cold and bruised skin; and they move so fast i can barely breathe now. 

your fingers prick and your nails seem to be sinking into my liveless skin. yet, i don't feel the pain. 

your breath smells of smoke; and the smell engulfs the nostrils and every membranes, overwhelming my thoughts. i hate the smoke; but why do i like yours? 

it's night again, but where are you?

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