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The Hunt

February 6th, 1991 by

The hunt
Poised
A destined inclination
withering mesh
    brought into an array
bound by
Ecstasy.
With a tumultuous rising
venturing into the light
and then into a warm
darkness
Bonded only
    by motion
    friction bound
        by virtue
    Virtue
Restrained only until the touch of a sigh
And then surrendered.

 

Filed under Bad Poetry, Writing | No Comments »

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