We talk like old friends,
masking the horrid truth
that I still dream of the
psychedelic colors of you
while I paint my naked torso
over his
and
you still taste
the flavor of my fiery embers
even as you lick the flames
of hers.
YOU ARE READING
Fragments
PoetryOf life and death. Of love and heartbreak. Of sin and truth. Of muses and tragedies. The world is a complex weave of binaries. And so is this book. [a collection of poems by Claudia]
