Your kiss is radioactive and its half-life is too short.
I’d like to have another, but I’m not the tartish sort.
My exhilaration is one that will endure—
a sort of welcome fever for which there is no cure.
I want to tell the world of it. I want to shout and sing,
make friends with all your relatives and let my love take wing.
But confiding in my diary, instead, will be my fate,
at least until you call me for another date!
Prompts today are sing, relative, radioactive and exhilaration.