E Nigma


~simply Not Here~ - Poem by E Nigma

His eyes
Slowly
Trace the
Curves
Upon her
Face
His curse
Insatiable
He must look
Away
Downward
The floor meets
His gaze
Downward
He's
Spiraling
Out of control
Upward
He rose
Eyes
Ice cold
What she doesn't
Know will
Hurt her
His desire
Grows
Death reeks
Of cold
Sweat
Her
Soft supple
Flesh
Met by
Hot breath
Her scents
Alluring pushing
Him over
And over the
Edge
A struggle
Ensues
Torn cloth
Shreds
Foul words said
He sinks
Deep
As she cries
Eyes rolling
Backwards
His blade
Between
Her thighs
A day dream
Weakened
State ends
She's
Still Alive
He still
Pretends...

Topic(s) of this poem: thinking


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, March 7, 2015



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