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The Threat
by Timberly C Deville

and you bind me tight
sweating - suffocating
in my own private hell of cheap perfume.

And the smell of lust has invaded and raped my senses. 
A slow fog rolls over me - 
Up my thighs, over my ribs 
and again - it brings me to you.

I am your rhyme.
I am your reason.
I am your voiced contagion.
I am your blood.
I am your god.
I am your tainted addiction.
        
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Poem ID: 78873   Poem Posted: 10/21/2004
Viewed: 4644  Voted On: 85  E-mailed: 7  Commented On: 0
 
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Rose and Rhyme Sweets Message in a Bottle Flowers


Copyright , 2004, Timberly Christene Deville  all rights reserved by the author.
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