Her way to stay sane.
Her way to become mad.
Her way to inspire.
Her way to remove the plain.
She is the seductive curve posing in a devil’s empowering dress.
The manners of a full-lipped villain.
When she dips on bent knee, to confess.
Whilst dangling on the threads of word.
She brushes my skin.
With contemplation’s I had never heard.
Here and there…
no relief from indifference among the solitary prison besetting a mind.
I cannot leave.
Nor, do I want to.
I am suited
by leaving the outside world behind.