Charge

               There’s a charge in the air and it tickles my skin, swirling between us and tapping our shoulders.  I won’t let it past my skin, however, because I know what it will do if it reaches its tingling fingers any farther.  It’ll swim around my heart and slowly close in.  It’ll laugh a knowing laugh and cut off air and blood flow.  It’ll squeeze and it’ll hurt, but, oh, it’ll feel so good. 

                Sometimes I wonder if you feel the same thing around your own heart.  Do you feel the spark, the push, the constricting tendrils of that little charge? 

Does it scare you like it does me?

That’s why I can’t let it in, you see, because if I do it’ll get a grasp on me and then I won’t be able to say no.  I won’t be able to rely on my own heartbeats. 

But the gentle squeeze feels good.  Too good, maybe.  Perhaps it is so good and that is why it hurts.  Or is it good because it hurts? 

Whichever it is, I hope you’re feeling the sweet pain too.