Unravelling and weaving, sometimes simultaneously

Muse

Her mouth carries a drug
whether she wields it
with bites or kisses;
her tongue is the bitter truth
wrapped in a snug cushion of longing.

There is no sleep for you there.

The couch is on fire
and you must rise and witness it
staggering from the poison
that eats you from within…
Her gift
her gift
her only gift to you.

(c) RCGA 2014

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