She’s like a drug.
You consume her. Breathe her in.
Experience her high.
Her hair twists and sits on her head gently
as if each strand was perfectly placed there by God.
She laughs with such roar of happiness–
A true angel.
Her eyes are the opiate they warn you about.
That brown stuff; addictive like morphine.
Her body is like the poppies,
forbidden to touch but the temptation is wild.
No one can have her.
You can try and pick her petals but none have
deflowered.
She’s that girl that comes into your life,
the medicine you need.
Amapola is a healer,
but she makes hearts bleed.
©2024. Yesenia Luna for Palabras con Alas.