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

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