I inhale deeply the dense aroma of mistake.
It ignites my mouth, and my thirst is awake.
Like an ivy, it binds me,
I’ve been stymied.
Sweaty palms will incriminate,
As my clammy goose bumps congregate.
My conscience waits uneasily in the scale for my move.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Aroma of Mistake
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