The coffe burned his tongue; he drank it still Her skin matted in perfect shades of dark;with layers rushed his heart. Her warm touch warned him of her danger ;but her scent commanded his soul He burned his tongue but he kept drinking;he needed her liquid As the drug took effect ;he did what he did quick; To finish his day ;and get back to perfect

The coffee burned his tongue; he drank it still He knows no meal Will taste the same But there’s pleasure in pain to the flesh… Comfort in knowing it’s still fresh