Spilled ink – Page 61 – A (wise) man of two faces

Aftertaste

I can still taste her
for hours after we’ve parted;
her love still remains.

Sex
Hot, heavy
Kissing, sucking, fucking
“Oh – oh my God!”
Shaking, aching, collapsing
Breathless, tender
Love

The taste of her lips
was a light dollop of cream
and a heap of hell.

Lay me
upon our bed,
pull me close to you, and
show me just how very much you
Love me.

Our magnetic lips:
drawn together easily,
difficult to part.

Please give me a smile
a little ray of sunshine
to brighten my day.

Bright as gold
but twice as cold…
She’s a pretty face
and youthful grace
but her soul is old.

Her only crimes were
in loving too often and
always the wrong man.

The rings of fire
burned ever higher
in the oh-so quiet cell
of my own private hell,
the burden of a Liar.

The chains which bind us
are words wrought stronger than steel
and twice as heavy.