.. Cherished memories of what could be..

Scent of desire aroused his
mating season.
New Year is the time when all wolves
go wild with their insatiable hunger,
and me as a weak shattered she wolf
is the only thing he
can’t have,
can’t touch,
can’t lose control by tasting her
salty skin…
can’t meet her primal urges,
can’t hear her mouths moaning,
can’t pull her upon a pine to make him
came more alive..

He wished for to chase her,
close her darkness,
lick her wetness with his long
blue tongue,
and plunge into a swollen lust-filled riverbank
with shivering
diamond pearls bubling over of
relief down his bulged carnal desire…

…and she was only his imagination…

-Lily-

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