Thursday, June 14, 2007

I could breathe hot fire
Through lungs piercing
Arteries and veins.
Sweet nothings
You promised
On half-full moons,
Lips sweeping across
Bare flesh.
There was something about
The moonlight, slanted across
Hot skin,
Pressing,
That made your words valid.
Twisted tongues could never
Be so sweet.
So
Satiable.

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