She wakes me from slumber to dance naked through my mind and antagonise me once more. She screams for attention in packed rooms, And beckons from the towering branches of Elms. Her footsteps echo behind as she dances along, my words captured in a cheap clutch bag. I shower - she washes me. I eat - she feeds me. I dress - she undresses me. I breath - she exhales. She parades before me on crowded trains and purrs from overhead luggage racks. She smiles seductively in my car and raises her hem - as her broken nails tear my face and back, seeking more and more attention. Yet, when I am ready for her she abandons me. All my credit spent, and leaves me hanging on the threads of temptation she has sown. She laughs - hauntingly, from these empty pages and her shadow....ah her shadow brushes against my face and dries out my tongue. Then my words - once more, are gone. Mick Goodson copyright 2000
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