by Alexandra Pollard

Created on: April 03, 2009

My light flickers dimly but I press on,

rabidly, craving your touch.

The cold, black ribbon touches my skin,

wrapping over blue lines.

I feel the ebb and flow of you,

the swriling shapes etched in my flesh.

I will remain your silent lover,

until you turn from me,

for I will soon complete you.

Like hundreds before me, I join the pile

of those who have sacrificed for your art,

with your words on our pale, white skin.

Learn more about this author, Alexandra Pollard.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.