eyes closed
but
i hear it
your voice
through
the locked door
slippery
honeydrenched
silkensatinsoftness
shhhhhhhhhh
*must
*grip
*the
*key
*tightly
(silly girl…
of course
it’s a Master lock!)
and that
sound
slow
sweet
smooth
flawless
was it you
that painted the door red?
(must have been
to match the poppies
in your eyes)
sugar-sickness
and a subtle injection
accomplished by careful degrees
a priceless work of art
(autographed and everything)
jonesing
tweaking
no, you never needed to fight the fix, did you?
to come up stronger if it didn’t kill you first
my silver-tongued masterpiece
my beloved opiate kiss
yes
you are the drug
just like you said
Nov 2004