I awaken to the tightening of my shackles
As they pull on my limbs.
Slathered in sweat
Covered in grime
The breeze from the open door
Chills my skin,
Neuron fire
Ignites the roar of butterflies.

Her presence...
She, Whom I Adore
Her steel heels click-clacking
Beyond my sight
And my body stiffens.
Her perfume ignites me
With the sting of her eyes.
She appears peripherally
And old wounds
Scream with new found fear.

She waits...
And I refuse to surrender
The one thing of mine that is me.
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constructive criticism consults the creative.
written, & otherwise presented by Antonio Reda
date last created (edited): 10 February, 2001
html: 10 February, 2001
 
Copyrighted, or not for any use other than intended.
Last revised: 10 February, 2001
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

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