A Twinge of Tangerine


Sweeping pain
Suddenly bursts forth
The sweetened fruit
Now running its course
Pulsing through
Her hardened veins
Sending pure acid
Straight to her brain
Dizzily she tries
Her best to stand
A fowl green substance
Clinging to her hand
Falling and writhing
With the sting of regret
From the filthy decay
She so foolishly bit

© 2018 Michelle Cook

Writing prompt – A Twinge of Tangerine


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