Resistance Was Futile

Undulating.

Almost… painful,

those beads of sweat

above your navel.

That smoke…

It surrounds your

eyes and I’m burning

in the iris,

pupils dilate,

hips flick,

resistance was

futile.


© CGT, 2018.

Blogging Poetry

Obol View All →

Obol is a poet and an infrequent writer of prose.

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