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her flight of nightingales

little by little
my little comes to me
in past the widow of dark

her flight
of nightingales
soaring ever deep
serenading
the subjugation of my wind
a journey taken
of a thousand trails

eyes rise/cast
she carries my strength
from the lows
aroused
to the height of a mountain
breath remains
shallow
the view a blur

I don't need to see
I need to feel

touch touring inside
my cave a chalet
roaring fires
crackling, the whip
I shan't resist,
desire a phantom in full dress
her skin
pressure amid the perfected
pulses
her head fused
railing the jagged edges
of my rock




Written by JusTim_
Published
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