Parma Violet Prince

Opium,

under my skin,

soaked into my soul,

slightly sweet,

supernaturally seductive.

 

My parma violet prince,

on the air,

my mind,

my lips,

nestled in my neediest nights,

when I creep down the stair case,

sniffing and sighing,

like a mad woman.

You are my affliction,

addiction,

obsession,

conviction.

I am handcuffed to heaven,

living in violent,

violet,

vintage.

 

I am driven to distraction,

destitution,

and desire,

by your slightly sweet,

supernaturally seductive scent.


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Notes To My Muse

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