June *?*
I want to be a girl tonight. I wish it were that
simple
to talk of springly things, of muddy deep fields
and wet rocks and
lost innocence in a sea of misnomers
his heart should be called the foreigner
it rests in me like a soul untold
his eyes should be called the seekers
they will find me on the darkest shores
no Norse blade could twist deeper
no penetration ever find a heart so fast
his mouth is no cave, but a shut away house
alone on a hill in some tightlipped town
that only gives away secrets through graveyards and
blood - no heartbreak will spill its high wall
his hands should be called the lovers
he makes every part of me
more together somehow, anew
rough fingers did not break the young girl’s dream
until it was the woman’s wish
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