Honey ripples sticky and sweet
Down the pouted edge of my hungry lips
Slurping softly through the mist, my full moon skin feasts on soft, midnight wind
"Shed, shed , shed" whispers in my ear
I listen
Long grass tickling the curves of my dancing thighs
Laughter, raw and true, sings out above the tree tops
I have never felt so free
Someone on the outside would see a wood nymph
Fingers hard digging into dark earth
Then sprinting fast with willow-the-whips kissing my ribcage
Inked arms out, head back
My feet pounding the rhythm of January up into the stars