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Hunting season

gently, my fingers brushed through the bridge  
of your nose, and nimbly we crossed the waters  

of unspeakable longing. my hand felt the summer  
in your hand, and the jungle of desire tossed about  

its canopy and understory and grass, decreeing once  
and for all nature’s law in troubled terrain.  
when my throat felt the autumn, like strawberries  
your lips bloomed, sumptuous and sweet, waiting  
to be picked by a sundrenched man with soiled feet, wanting,  
like roses, to be adored and smelled and kept in a vase filled  
with only the sweetest rainwater. my mouth craved  
for the dew of the evergreens, and my tongue probed  
into the hibernating depths of the earth. The winter  
in my bones melted away, your soft moans assuring me:  
tonight, the roots and barks and leaves  
shall not taste the bitterness of snow.
Written by heyycyanides
Published | Edited 5th Sep 2019
Author's Note
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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