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Author: Twisted
Elite Ratio:    7.47 - 159 /57 /75
Words: 80
Class/Type: Poetry /Broken
Total Views: 1098
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 545


This is only the first part to a three part poem. Originally I was going to post it, but I decided not, oh well, I suppose, right?


vodka burns and crimson sheets shift,
the burning fingers gripping my hips,
his scent is
hot and cooling
but her scent is sticking to him as well.
-&- and it’s not fair as honey-coated lips
life among the dead
(-&-stuff like that cause poets seem to lie)
arch and take within, yes he’s mine,
sleeping next to him,
I love you
whispered meanlessly.

( I seem to forget
addiction and methadone tasted lips
are rehearsed)

Submitted on 2007-10-31 00:31:56     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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