*Ash forests, Tigris and Euphrates meet
Pistachio scent slithers through my nose
He was no saint.
He feeds me forbidden fruit from Eden
Touches my face with his fingers
The warmth burns me inside like inferno
"Hell," he says, "does not exist"
And calls me his Heaven.*
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 5:11 PM UTC
