She was so good with herself

Until he came along — 

Perhaps it became better.

She forgot her rules 

And learnt to live. 

She broke bad habits

And learnt to breathe. 

She outdid herself 

And learn to knit. 

She thought, 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

She welcomed him into her life,

And as and when he came by. 

Never turning back before he’s gone,

Each time leaving her scarred and torn. 

Soon after she wondered,

If it’s worth it at the end of it all.

We all know what she’s after, 

It’s for her to make the call.

Pink Gin.

The sheets caught fire

The rays of light – like desire.

Subtly etching marks on the skin

Grazing her feet against his shin.

A scent that never seems close enough

Even when they’re intertwined and rough.

Bites on left and right shoulders;

Tracing outlines of each other;

Visions that quivered

Ended with looks that lingered.

It’s morning —

It’s a morning that tasted like burnt pink gin.


It’s with you I feel the heat,

Counted times I changed my sheets.

It’s for you I save my treat,

Ensure always you meet your needs.


I’m spellbound,

Can’t run away now.

Search for me at lost and found,

On the streets and all around town.

Keep finding me but don’t make a sound,

I need to be back on the prowl.

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