Friday, October 4, 2013

Consumed



I don’t taste anything
At first
When the tip of my
Tongue eases in –
It’s the moist
Softness enveloping
Me as if to take
The whole of me
Inside,
My roughness
Oozing over
This smooth
Deception
I can no longer
Resist,
Aching to be
Consumed at
Any cost,
Aching to keep
Feeling what I feel,
Aching for one more taste
That I know
Will never

Be enough.

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