Another Taste
She was shaking
like a newborn crack baby,
blue eyed and
desperate for a fix;
a loving touch.
I let my arms
fall around her shivering body
and realize that
I should not be diluted
by my obsession,
but this is just too much
for my small hands
to grasp and potentially
form into perfection.
I know that if
I held her any closer
She would suffocate
on the cotton
and plastic lettering
of my shirt,
but I really do need
something more
than filtered air
and bottled water
to give me peace of mind.
I trace the rivets
of her spine
letting the bumps
dissolve beneath my fingers.
I will always return
for another taste
of the angel's white spine.
She knows this
by now,
and once again
I shudder
at my defeat.
© 2007 LadyMalice
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/16018/101066 on Sunday September 07th, 2008 08:58 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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