The White Sin

Why is it you
Whose body calls to mine?

Behind your eyes
That same rabid desire.
The sin never realized –
Filling, wanting, waiting –
That handful of flame.

And yet the burning is enough.
The ash would fill my mouth –
A taste – where
Your name and kiss had been.

by Suzanne Bronson on Wednesday, February 13, 2008

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Which word is all in capitals: grandness, simulates, POETS or moorhens?

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