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Longing

The trees bare branches,

Like shadows

In the liquid silver moonlight.

Our breath-

Hot like burning coals

Sears skin

Where lips touch flesh.

The history

In fingers that trace a path

Of transgression,

Across me and the decades.

Primal instinct,

Realised and given life.

In you

There is something,

That wakes

The Wild in me.

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3 Comments

    • Thank you! Its very kind of you to comment- this is my first piece of poetry since I was at school and I was quite nervous about showing anybody (which I why I signed up here!?)! Thank you again for taking the time to read it.

      • You’re quite welcome, & in the right place. Poets here are generally easy to interact with. Which is why I love it here so much.

        Feel free to read/comment on whatever you like here. I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine.

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