The speaker describes someone's touch as something that has stayed on their body long after it happened. The fingerprints are "attached" to the skin, as if they can't be washed or rubbed off, and they burn. That one word makes the memory of contact feel painful, not tender.
The second sentence adds a strange twist: the speaker's body is "feeding" on that burning. So the pain isn't only something endured. It also sustains the speaker, who seems to need it in some way. The poem suggests a bond that hurts but that the speaker can't or won't let go of, perhaps a former lover, though the text doesn't say who the other person is.
The mood is intense, tight, and a little unsettling. With so few words, the poem leaves no room for comfort. It sits between desire and damage, and it never tells us which one wins.