Addicted to Cream
Taste and texture.
Her throat glimpsed, in stark reflection, that night tram commute.
Coat collar flattered and framed, accentuated, youthful, elegant.
Swan like, a sight not seen since she’d been addicted to cream.
Wallow and pity, friends, they joined her every day.
Demonic battle between, “eat that, you’ll get fat”
and “you need this sweet meal to heal.”
Addiction defeated. Heartbreak gone.
Battle won. Love scars sealed.
Her chin just the one.
Her skin like
cream.
Originally published at http://wrtwrds.wordpress.com on May 27, 2013.
