The crush of pine needles

Branches broken

Like naïve hearts

I wander

Following the scent

Of the divine feminine

Not to be saved

By it nor to save it

Simply to wallow it

Soak myself in its


The divine sweat

Of the sheets made damp

With passion

I carve sigils

Into the earth

To call it

Passionate primal

Angel of my desire

I would hold you down

Beneath my paws

As you clutch in ecstasy

At my fur

Call my name

Over and over

I love with a ferocity

A persistence

That would break

Lesser souls

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