"Catch me,…"
She's got a golden bow in one hand,
temptation in the other.
A huntress lay within her veins.
And collecting ladies
like trophies she
stored them away in the trees.
Dreaming of the sun, dogs howling
at her feet, she missed the smell
of glory and of sweet blood.
Beautifully vicious, unfuckable
she painted her face with dirt,
secretly longing for the one
who runs faster then she.
"if you can…"
YOU ARE READING
Fire in the Blood
PoetryThere is a fire in your blood, my dear,—not even a thousand kisses deep could extinguish. One caress of golden flames will scorched the prints of many a frostbitten future.
