in nights of dreams before…

by kholinar

To trysts arrive untied
and met with mothers mad

I flee so unapproved
and by un-reach She falls
not even a hand offered
dark eyebrows unamused

We spoke it wrong again
you never wanted fences
you never twist the vines
you never cut, you break
and wrists are not so hinged

so left to right we’ll try
now take this arching blade
and I’ll taste
and we’ll nod
and the rest will come when the ground cries out…

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