Slow Poison

The glass embellished by your lipstick stain,
remains dry beneath the moonlight rain.

Your smooth, toxic perfume
stabs me silently, with tranquilizing pain.

My words, bruised and prepared
rejoice in anticipation of their promised escape.

But,

I'm afraid your lipstick stain is starting to fade
and I will become thirsty again.

I'm afraid I'll be cured of the poison that
runs through my veins.

I'm afraid my brave words, imprisoned,
will die shackled, in vain.

-- Fawaz