til death steals…

cannot fathom such touch anymore
its meaning slit and deleted 
gone 
dissipated
desire
in the h0urs, days, months
lost track 
what is like anymore
in between the heat of thighs
moans and sighs loitering no longer
her youth stolen
her prime unwanted 
do they find pleasure in wasting her
no understanding of their inner working 
perhaps she has known all along
the poetry of being used
tossed aside
wasted 
unwanted
unloved
so offensive is she? deserving?
and yet she burns evermore
burn baby burn
Til death upon death 
steals this soul’s fire 

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