This Is What Our Chemistry Does To Me

It’s like our blood is gasoline.
Or our skin is flint.
We sure know how to burn.
Igniting the candle wicks,
the lamps, the lighters.

My knees bent like the pages
in a book, I’m praying,
wishing on eyelashes,
and kissing pennies before
I throw them in fountains
that we’ll watch the sunset
until the earth is scorched.

I fell for you
that night at the beach.
The breeze blew through my heart valves.
My nerve endings burned,
though we didn’t touch.
I still feel the atoms in my bones,
my every molecule,
teeter toward you.
My heart scintillates.
And that’s chemistry.