Born

It always lurked inside, but had evolved from

a small, superficial presence into

a Fog that glowed beautifully and dangerously

as the source of one's existence.

Fresh air that's inhaled is produced into

a warm poisonous gas that coats the mind with sweet 

promises and She places her soft finger tips gently down on your

eyelids, sealing you in an invisible haze of trust and fear. 

The world fades and everything drifts into a locked cove of

seclusion. After you are dragged and beaten and the spell is broken, 

the haze is lifted, but the Fog still lingers.  

Love me, nurture me, never leave my soul.