The back of your neck
Prolonging the scene,
Slender
Colorless in spectrum.
Your face emulating all that is insubstantial
Just as your demeanor emulates spite
to me.
I see past the mercury eyes and neon tongue.
I flee the circle of insecurity that surrounds you.
I was once drawn in
I am still drawn in
gravity has an illness.
At one point in time
Blatancy aroused me,
When cuddled in arms too weak to hold me still,
I fell.
What a thrill that feeling was,
so glad its over now.
It was all subliminal-
The simper of your arid grace
Was more than just a rumor escorting my acuity astray
Along with a whimper that screamed obscenities.
Copyright 2005 D. Corey Sanderson (Tracer)
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