Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary. ~Kahlil Gibran

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Sinister You

The look on your face 
is poison inside me
The sight of your body 
sets my skin in fire
The memory of your smell
stills lingers
The sound of your voice
still batters my brain


In all my secret, deep down places
You haunt me


In the curve of my throat
In the bends and bows of my arms
In the corners of my eyes
In the back of my mind
In the drums of my ears 
and the tip of my tongue you hide


Sinister You by Dakota Farley

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