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The Puppeteer.

March 22, 2012
By Isabella Becerra BRONZE, Commack, New York
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Isabella Becerra BRONZE, Commack, New York
4 articles 1 photo 0 comments
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Devouring his back is a febrile breath that glides for endless hunger,
She exhales once more.
Relieving the final mark of pleasure; a fulfillment raises her

In that moment passion becomes a tautened tie,
And so the puppeteer was chosen

He danced, providing an entity to a dream she once envisioned
Tugging closer as he strained for release

Concocting from a drop of red,
And a thin horizon-
Begins a fictitious love

The author's comments:
First of my Seven Deadly Sins poetry collection.
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