liberation won’t come through prayer,

even though I’ve tried

to free myself

from the temptation

of his kiss,

his touch,

the way he whispers my name when we make love

lost deep in the ocean of my scent,

his hands, paint petroglyphs on my skin

I carry traces of his love like DNA

addiction of any kind can be deadly

and I’ll admit I have found myself at death’s door

© 2013 Nancy Arroyo Ruffin