the bitter taste of his lust
sits on my tongue like battery acid
blisters form
he defiled the sanctuary
creating pustules of angst
he cheated me out of my revenge
and i spit the bile from aching lips
all is gone
i no longer feel the need to cling
to vines of dripping oil
the bitter taste of his lust
will dissipate like steam spouts
as i move further
into fog shrouds of dried tears
and grasp no more at tethered loins
A Thought For Every Word
GL Roberts Books 
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