handbare hip, we hold to night
caress of thigh to thigh to
drink you with raggedbreath
nectar sweet the tongue tasting so
we forget stars falling, give to
eyedrawn and sinking, looking
past doors locked against pale
leannán, drain of misery
let come, let call, let dream
bring me a little of this dying
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I love the ending line
Thank you, Natalie. 💙
Excellent!
Thanks, man. I appreciate it.
In dying are we born
Come Death and free me from this stagnation
Sorry, I went a bit Emily Dickinson there!
Love this.
Standing in the shadow of Dickinson is nothing to sneeze at. Thank you. 🙏
Gosh, this is incredible. You write so gorgeously!
Thank you! The troubadour got out of his padded cell again. 🤣
I’m not mad about that either 🤣
🤣 thanks for the laugh. Much appreciated.
I’m here all week 🙂
😊
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