Her Lover’s Prey, Pt. II

I’ve made a meal of the adoration spelled out across the pages,
Each week, the anticipation for the rush of envelopes
pushed through the slot
scurrying across the floor towards my feet, as anxious as I,
to be held in my trembling hands
Yet again, I become a victim to your confessions
With agonizing haste, my eyes make their way to the bottom,
to the end,
where my heart thuds with the knowledge of another week ahead
until the surge of endearment can once again course through my blood,
Impatient and evermore aroused simply by the scent of lavender escaping
the casing of the floral slate used as your ink canvas,
my dusty luggage becomes relevant and eager to become intimate
in the closeness of the closet walls where it once was,
Without my knowing that within hours of arrival, a buildup of regret will
erupt from my being in an explosion of tears, fears,
and a heartache so gut wrenching that actual vomit will spill upon the floor,
Succumbing to the ploy of your lover, as he gazes in amazement
at the success of sinking my soul
into the deepest depths of deception.


4 thoughts on “Her Lover’s Prey, Pt. II

  1. Pingback: Her Lover’s Prey Pt. III | What's Right Is Write

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