3 of Cups

In a foreign bedroom, she will glisten a climax of sadness.  Trying to feel her way in; feeling enough of your absence; dirty; her mouth tastes fragile and unappealing. 

You perceive she makes sin cheaply with the tears streaming down her body; she starts to think of him drowning; she falls into thoughts of her widespread hips with his; pretending that he is the burning that remains in her nearly broken, turning to poison, barely beating muscle, but the brightest blue in that fire: her only true lover that will stay in her warm blooded heart forever; he still retreats to her, so she sinks into the water of another’s skin pleading for her true lover to remember.

As her skin goes from fire to ember; the night she doused her fire with sin.

-JenKey83

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