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antidote

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she knows just where
i keep my tears
for she’s my puppeteer
she finds out where
my heart bleeds most
and builds her fires there

she knows what words
with jagged edge
can make the sharpest wedge
between my safe place
and her chasm
and hangs me on the edge

i’m not unwise
to every smile
that paints her guile with charm
my own façade
would seem awhile
incapable of harm

but ere she bleeds
my tears like rain
or spills my blood in vain
the antidote:
to sip her dead
with venus’ champaign…

© Copyright 2019 March 11
by Clyve A. Bowen♫
Written by cabcool
Published
Author's Note
This is mere phantasy. At any rate, it speaks of the subtly controlled becoming the subtle controller.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.

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