The water on your lips
Is the poison in my mouth
The garble in my speech
But the passion of my dreams
The pressure of your touch
Is the dagger in my soul
The strangle of my throat
But a sample of my goal
Your body in my arms
Is the melting of my flesh
The cracking of my bones
But the triumph of my life
With poison in your lips
And a dagger in your touch
It hurts to love you
But it helps so much.
PUBLICATION: The Crier, Vol. 35, No. 5, February 5, 1998, Corning Community College.
HISTORY: This was another one of those poems that I wrote for the sake of writing, though I was probably thinking about one of several women at the time.
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