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II.
Emily Apr 2020
II.
A primal flower we weave
Between blue azure and sea
Together, bodies coil
Mouths to fertile soil
Your lips, the scent of hash
Voraciously, we crashed
To hold poise, we fought
To repress, we ought!
Without a stitch in sight
A hummingbird takes flight
Like sky and sea, we meet
In two bodies' harmony
As pure as driven snow
A sweet babe, a sweet doe
My habitat, your home.
Emily May 2019
A babe in the woods I beheld
in the back of my mind's eye
Feel the frigidness of my fingertips, doe
In only the throwing of a gauntlet
shall you loosen my grasp
to the arms of men!

Though my heart grows tender
As if one were everything;
The fire of the sun, the sweetness of fruit
Melt like water into my arms!
Allow me to shower you with the light of the stars

Saint Cupid declared
People like us shan't mingle!
but in all her dandelion glory
my fingertips ache with my hand around her thigh
To move further; I don't dare
Such delicate china skin and curls of her hair!

I shan't worship!
I hold my ego tight in my belly
And never will I lose it to you;
For what path have you walked that carried you
to the edge like me?

Love him if you desire;
You can't break my ego!
Saint Cupid conspires.

— The End —