Growl

Pistol2

The innermost hunger roils forth in boil,
Prowling and growling in a lowly purred hum

Marking the deep inner ghost shadowing a mind.
Haunting its every urge by roaming over words

Searching for acquiescence absent your presence.
Rising up in fervor to consume the mate of sense

As the teetering pistil, fragrant with lusty pollen
Dusting its willing nub, hangs among the sweet folds

Of lily mother and consumes the drunken bee.

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About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
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