She Whispers
- Amy Frank
- Mar 3, 2004
- 1 min read
She whispers,
Tongue sweet
Like the chocolates
window dressing
the store.
Each word clothed in tinfoil
dozing in a paper shell.
She speaks,
So sweet
Each letter a slice into the centre,
oozing candied-cream.
She whispers,
So bitter
Sour milk curdling in the warm run-down fridge.
Dark chocolate dipped in.
"No sugars added,"
She whispers.
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