Catalyst

One.
I will light you on fire
with these words, you say.
Your tongue will tingle
and your breath will smell of smoke.

In that literary heat—
in the glow of the words,
in the midst of searing sentences
and crackling cadences,
you peer through eyes hooded
with pain—clouded
with foggy delirium and ecstatic bliss.
You moan through clenched teeth:
what do you say?
What do you scream
as words separate truth from your body
and the smoke from their fire
makes you weep?

Two.
You say, I will jump.
And I say, yes.
I will jump from yours,
and begin my own.