She smells of death and tastes of absinthe…
This bittersweet thing floats like a stifling wind in the dog days of summer.
And, she destroys like a tempest--hovering above the deepest center of the seven seas.
She is no Nepenthe. Neither does she grant insensibility.
She is beautiful Eris, come to deliver chaos to the unflustered soul.
The forbidden fruit of her body--polished and golden--calls,
but she will always remain unobtainable--just out of reach of outstretched arms.
© Copyright 2017 Jennifer Brighton. All rights reserved.
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