galactic synapse

the paradox
in    
a soul contract  
is  
discovering  
resentment growing, relations withering    
yet the  
signature penned next  
to your own  
co-signed on a dotted-line  
still    
feels like electricity

simple sensations
of
minute, rippling pulsations
   
not familiarity  
nor lust  
nor comfort  
 
just
little touches  
of    
electric