Electric Shock

The zap jumped

like a thief in the dark—

blue fire licked skin,

then vanished,

leaving a burn that tingled

the length of my arm.

Dry winter breath held in the air,

caught between the door and me,

a live wire humming

in the cold.

A spark caught, brittle and quick,

a secret between finger and metal—

something bright, sudden,

then gone,

like a word almost spoken

and swallowed back.

That flicker stayed with me,

a ghost of touch

etched under skin,

a reminder that even silence

can bite.