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A grey wolf, with black stripes on its cheeks
lays down beside her,
lurking for its prey.
The inside of her thighs, a crescent moon
on the rise
and everything around her blossoms
like the petals of a yellow rose
Her voice, trembling in desire
and fear of the unknown:
"Unleash this beast, let it run
into the wilderness."
The images fade, shallow symbols
do not compare to reality:
The rapture of her naked splendour,
streams of blood on her breasts -
and the wolf,
the wolf feasting on her abdomen.
"It does what it must, and none other
because it is what it is." |