Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie
I could give up cigarettes, coffee, sugar,
chocolate and probably even salt.
I could never let go of your memory
it’s locked securely in a hidden vault.
Yet, longings escape
like pink whispers
memories haunt me
old scars burn as
your caress lingers
lips tender on my skin
kissing the curve of my face
as you slow dance me
until you win my heart
just to walk away.
A fantasy fulfilled, too hot to hold
it dropped from my burnt fingers.
The way you made me feel, my kryptonite.
The dance ended, but the music lingers.