Fresh Roses

He ran his hands across my blue jeans,
infected my mind with his gentle words;
breath hot against my skin.

He made me wild with his pink lips,
lavender dots against pale skin
empty promises against my ear.

He dug his fingernails into my skin and left mental imprints;
his familiar scent clung to my clothes.
I inhaled his presence with all my might,
and held on for dear life when it threatened to leave.

He injected me with his poison;
I am no longer free.