Wednesday 26 August 2009

Fickle Friend

My Friend.
She wraps her arms around my shoulders,
Guiding me where I want to go.
Running her fingers up my spine,
Stroking them through my hair.
She whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

Why does she turn,
Throwing sand in my face,
Pulling at my hair.
Taking my clothes in her grasp,
Not letting me move on,
Whilst screaming in my ear?

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