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by spidey Author IconMail Icon
Rated: ASR · Poetry · Emotional · #967736
Will he return?
My lips still crave
The tainted caress
Of my lover’s sweet kiss.

(As his pale lips left mine,
My muscles tightened);
I sit alone, tortured.

Clutching the damp sheets
Between my white knuckles,
My bliss decays in tears.

One cruel question
Burns through my mind,
Charring my trembling heart.

I call out his name,
My voice quietly faltering,
Carried on the wisp of a memory.

And still I lie here,
My restless head cocked;
I wait for an answer.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/967736-A-Question-Remains