I want to grab ahold of lightning, let it char my hands as it sends phosphorescent energy screamingstreaming from my mouth. I want to vomit the blue bolts, leaving spatters of electrical inspiration on sidewalks and toilet seats. I want to be forced to help ’em power you and me, to light lives with impulsive volts. I want to let it grab ahold of me, twisting spidery tentacles across breasts and back, lifting me with its weight. I want to hold your hand all the while, transporting flashes through you, giving life more real than Shelley’s nightmares.