the trapping

Wolves in traps,  1909-1918

i covet the skin

– the hide

– the seek

the light fingerings

and fumble.

fingers, telepathic,

find the skin,

taut

and warm.

i covet the skin

his skin.

for he is my lover

and beneath the cover

of blanket and night,

i search for the warmth

and softness of

his skin.

i want to slip beneath.

it is his skin.

this skin

on my skin

that i covet,

addicted.

my fingers search,

in the dark.

SNAP

like a bear trap,

my hand is caught.

i cannot free myself,

nor do i want to

struggle

or wrench myself free.

i want to be caught

in the trapping

of his skin,

his eyes,

mapping.

i covet the skin

and crave the ache

for such beauty

and purity

of his love

– this pain

– this pine

– this quake.

i crave this yearning

and desire

to hold

and never let go.

i crave the wilderness

of his eyes;

i want to run

with the wild animal

that is his mind.

time and time

– again

i willingly run

into this trap…

this tender trap of

his body,

his love,

this lust.

 

 

word (c) Kat McDonald 2015

image source: Wikipedia

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6 thoughts on “the trapping

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