poetry & things


Crushing you’ve come, traipsing through

my fruits and flowers, to stalk after dark, my heart

disguised in scented garlands, your secret blood and art

do you think me cruel, maybe a fool, or maybe

just a lover of summer white moons

with stars and tricks and the air too hot

my mind is asunder, I’ve fallen under

hypnotic spells you weave

and now it’s really

far too late

to leave

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