Saturday, November 10, 2007

Conditional Clause Pt 2

Honeyed sweetness drips from your tongue.
How sharper than a serpent's tongue
it is to have yours slither over me.
Trussed with words, tight, they wrap me,
my throat,
trail down my torso, my breasts,
my waist, my back, my pelvis,
and slide between my legs.
The lies we weave are so easy
so good.
They feel so good....
I want so much to believe.
The noose is a caress.
I lift my chin, exposing my throat.
Your thumbs stroke my windpipe,
our tongues dancing to the music of lies.
I press against the noose, revel in it
as you bite the nape of my neck.
Every kiss a lie.
Lies disguised as promises
slide down my arm to my ring finger,
size 5-1/4, I do. I do.
Does not take many.
One. Two. No more than three.
And I will believe.
Oh, I will clap hands because
I believe.
I believe in fairy tales and happy ever after.
I want so much to believe.
I want the lies.

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