Voodoo ArcherA Poem by Dripping Chocolate MadnessTasty little recurve
My tongue trips
My words, they skip Struggling to get past my lips You've broken me with just a kiss Even imaginary
What madness, this? A trance? A trick? What are you, a wicked witch? To cast magic such as this... ...And from so far away...
Was it you? Or me, instead? Was the whole thing in my head? If that was imagined, Strike me dead. So that I might die happy.
Kill me with your fatal kiss Take me out with poisoned bliss Just let my last sight be the lips That so tickle my fancy
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StatsAuthorDripping Chocolate MadnessWandering, RIAboutNot a writer, but I do it anyway. I'm also not a chef, musician, masseuse, guidance counselor, philosopher, or survivalist. But again: never stopped me before. I DO, however, happen to be a giant p.. more..WritingRelated WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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