The synapses that glow
are the juices that flow
like a streetlamp
quivering
in the dark
suffocated by repetition
scorning at the thought of burning out
like a firecracker
avalanching
across the sky
bombing the canopy
continuing to trail after the burst
like a marriage
fostering
stemming feelings of
love at first sight
discovering your downs don’t outweigh her ups
like a bird
piloting
effortlessly rivaling
at odds with gravity
wings aren’t made for walking
The synapses that glow
are the juices that flow
Let me drown in them.
