I have fondled addiction,
ran my young fingers around its
moist mouth, inhaled its deep
aroma that lightens my steps,
sours my breath.

I have brushed my finger
on the top of it, tasted
its deviously sweet side-
lips slightly parched
and aching for more.

I have never dove in
head first, been blinded
by the darkness at the bottom,
but I have waded on the surface,
feet slowly descending
until I pull them up.