Astral.

Burning like

nebulae,

in your

arms,

bright,

blinding

in the night

of ours.

Labial touches,

that permeate,

bewilder,

and

I live to

tell about

astral travel.

I don’t want

to breathe,

instead

dissolve in

you,

consequent

would

be an explosion

of supernova.