With forked tongue you speak,
coiling around lovers and lies…constricting -
two puncture wounds into the neck
of innocence.
Only a grin,
half closed, satiated eyes,
in the face of love.
A life…your reward reaped…
As you slither away.
Daily Archives: November 1, 2011
longstreet.anne@gmail.com
man, do i give diana ross a run for her money,with a straightening iron in my hand and "someday we'll be together" playing on the ipod.
