#74: And So the Story Goes

It was the way he said it,

 

Leaning in close,

I caught the faint smell of bourbon,

 

Delicately playing with the folds of my skirt,

My eyes surveyed every crevice, and every fine line from aging,

 

He was a master at games,

Growing cold,

Leaving me wandering,

Begging for more,

 

His lips teased me

And then he kissed me

 

Made me forget,

 

Made me long to be his

And only his alone,

But that was a long time ago

I was naïve and he was a master at his craft,

And so the story goes.

 

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

Advertisements
Tagged , , , , , , , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: