taking her pulse (struck)
he could never escape
the urge to take her pulse
as she had taken his
after sending it racing
pressing his finger tips
to the softness of her wrist
gently enough to feel
the pulsing of her heart
but this was only part of the story
he could never escape
the urge to take her pulse
pressing his parted lips
to the softness of her wrist
tasting, breathing the rhythm
of only her heart stirred by this
•
and he knew when they found his pile of ash
no one would be able to reconstruct
this inevitable of his being struck
the friction of these pulses sparked
the bolt that left its indelible mark
she took his breath and his pulse
ashen fingertips and smiling lips
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