The Recluse by Wendy Gealyour sweet venom strikes,
slaying my skin
with each perfect bane- stroke , lethal,
you hush me still with every lesion
as my fingers slide across you and whispering- little
trickles dance about each poisoned cell. i am melting
into your antidote lips curing myself
only to fill up with the same death- taste ,
sick- the curse, i correct myself
but everytime i feel you near
i find my hex.
07/18/2004 Author's Note: on bittersweet love
Posted on 07/19/2004 Copyright © 2024 Wendy Geal
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