The nakedness of spring
We were raw and ******
What the winter had drawn from us
Went into hibernation
Turning the soil was fresh
It placed us back into
The lineage of mother farmer
Of both love and dying
The scent of being human
I always dreamed that she had dark hair
And brown eyes
Her dress would be of summer
Standing at the end of the field
Free of undergarments
And bleeding into the earth
We would lunch on grass salad
I would crave her lips with every bite
But dreams are blind
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 12:17 AM UTC
The nakedness of spring
We were raw and ******
What the winter had drawn from us
Went into hibernation
Turning the soil was fresh
It placed us back into
The lineage of mother farmer
Of both love and dying
The scent of being human
I always dreamed that she had dark hair
And brown eyes
Her dress would be of summer
Standing at the end of the field
Free of undergarments
And bleeding into the earth
We would lunch on grass salad
I would crave her lips with every bite
But dreams are blind
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