by Samantha Flaherty
My heart likes to beat to things
in manners it should not
or, so it seems.
Her senses heighten to the aroma
reminding her of sensations
not felt in years.
Her fingertips trace every bump,
edge and curve,
envisioning hands of another;
crevices withholding an appetite
for a single touch.
She sits up abruptly, wondering
if these thoughts are filled with malice
If these thoughts are infected with betrayal
If her heart would
* * * * *
Samantha Flaherty is a third-year college student from Salem, Massachusetts who vehemently loves cats, the horror genre, and influencing people to think through her writing. She loves spending time studying Screenwriting and Psychology, and when she is not crafting something eerie and odd, she is usually brewing a big cup of peppermint tea.