44/F/Not Where She Is She follows all the rules . . .
. . . except when she doesn’t
Emotionally Trapped, Literarily Free
💜 Writer 💜Poet
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to nibble is to taste his intoxicating sweetness it is to quench her thirst from the cup of his pores uncork his decanter waft in his aroma drift into the seas of his Hennessy get high off his myrrh— —he’s so medicinal
on the cusp of tears too stubborn to fall like vines cascading down her cheeks fruits of her eyes fall warm brines drawing her into awakening she feels . . . but then . . . she doesn’t
like the beating of a drum his name reverberates throughout the contours of my mind an undeniable constant unyielding echoes charging wall after wall bouncing and falling from one neuron to the next electrical impulses strumming and humming . . . like amazing grace it sounds so, sweet