feral you, on petite, lithe and narrow
dancing on the edge of betweens
with stolen kisses on slender promise
while others argue, deaf to your muse
bound within the must and dust of
parchment giants lining every room
a wink, a smile, and a theft once more
then,
we raise twin hands, call in Storm
2 responses to “call in Storm”
This feels like a dream or maybe a spell being cast.
Sometimes it is all one in the same.