Linger

The bite of the moment stings
with a poison sweet and dangerous.

You feel it

Not really wanting to

Knowing you must not

For the danger that it brings.

But the sweetness finds its way into your veins,
pleading to be felt, now throbbing, pulsating.

You feel it,
Not really wanting to.

And you feel.

You ... feel, without intending to.

You want to get away from this animal--
this beast that has sunk its teeth into your
soul!

Too late.

You lingered.