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Feb 2020
There was a time, I would not have imagined.
The silky touch of a human, tender and smooth.
Yet, a hand driven by a mind, fierce and determined.
The terrible beauty, not only born, but pressed against my skin.
To what this honour? And how this dream?
Awaken me not, for I have no desire to escape.

Then she smiles.
Light from distant galaxies momentarily escapes through her eyes,
Trying vainly to catch it and contain in mine,
Straining from the effort my squint becomes a frown.

She laughs.
My once brazen spirit, disarmed and beaten, surrenders at her feet.
No longer believing his own well-rehearsed verses, this blushing schoolboy steers his gaze away.
And yet. And yet.

In a distant place, a lion awakes, rises and surveys.
The sun is already scorching the savanna.
Another day of hunting the prey. Another spin on Darwin's cycle.
I am being devoured.
Cormac
Written by
Cormac  50/M/France
(50/M/France)   
364
 
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