The Opiate, Fall Vol. 15
Affliction Amy Barry Incensed flames flicker, an aching stillness hangs, she longs to be elsewhere. Warm breath creeps, Intoxicated like the first time she danced with her lover— her soul ignites, across the scuffed wooden floor, she pirouettes. Sweat on brow, feverish perfumed passion, fingers trace as if unsure. Storm-tossed, she is peeled; A promise to the night, she arrives. The Flower Duet ends. But memories linger like watchful ghosts.
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