His fingers, made of persuasion and heat, touched her fragile cheek as if touching her was the only concept that would make her breathe again.
Her lips, born and dipped in sin, his thumb crossing over the wavered lines that produced the only thing he'd dream about at night.
His eyes, half mad with animosity, half with unpurified lust, stared into the depths of her soul, coercing it to follow his own fate.
Her love, unmeasured through any means, does nothing to bless him, nothing to falter the damage she had caused.
His hate, the venom she whimpers for, writhing in madness beneath him, for a chance to hear her name being slandered from his tongue.
A glance, a whisper, the heat, the romance.
Mixture of their essence, thick with destruction, thin with fantasy.
Euphoria.
About the Creator
Sharlene Alba
Full of raw and unfiltered fluid poems, short stories and prompts on love, sex, relationships and life. I also review haircare, skincare and other beauty products. Instagram: grungefirepoetry MissBeautyBargain Facebook: grungefirepoetry
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