Immortal ImageBlown by the breeze...I am invisible...only divisible by touch
The orange sky whispers much as my ears are faced inwards avoiding the madness of the mid afternoon rush...
Trade in your memory of her and create an immortal image where she is forever smiling and comforted by the sound of your voice
It wasn't that long ago that her lips brushed against your neck and a trail of saliva gently crept from her exposed tongue forever warm and moist...
She was supposed to be stuck in that position...and she was apparently against her will and drew back the spit for blood and drew that from your neck instead
You had more than enough to give...
You shared it with her and lived on to whisper these warped stories of when she existed.
She still does, just not to you, even if you resisted, in your life...she is dead
She has fed and now moves towards the next survivor
She used our love to revive her and they will succumb as well as we have all eventually fell...victims of her desire
Poetry by TheNakedPoet
Read 594 times
Written on 2007-12-28 at 19:30
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