(11-5-02)
The lights begin to dim
And I start searching for
Unnecessary comforts.
Senses,
All five
Overwhelmed with what you
Took from me.
They say
The sweetest drink is a
Mother's milk.
I drown myself in
Warm security.
Our milk mingles
With groans of
Ecstasy.
I revel in the
Closeness of
Anonymity.
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