Paramour

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Photo Credit: cemac at deviantart.com

You are my paramour,
my beautiful ghost,
my illicit dream,

yet you are a rock
in my belly,
a sword
at my neck.

The thought
of your writing
on my skin
sends knee-jerk impulses
prickling my spine,
flashing alarms
calling out
in my brain.

“DON’T DO IT!”
they scream

and I ignore their
ugly truths
for your pretty lies

and float back into
your web.

~ Patience

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