Untitled 4

Untitled 4 

“The precise moment a climactic moan fell off her lips she metamorphosed. She tasted the sweetness of the forbidden fruit; my angel- so pure and faultless-  was bonded to the beauty of her sapphic transgressions. Though marked by iniquity, her divinity flourished; perhaps the abomination she feared the most was no sin at all.”

~NC
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Hawkins Avatar
September 27, 2017 at 8:59 AM
wow..powerful
Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace