Boreas' Curse, cum please, curled in a C, erotic poetry, finger fucking, gods sleep, knuckles deep, October is laughter, sonnet, winter
The gods are rabbits in burrows, sleeping
below the crunching feet on snow. The worst
time to conjure a spirit is during
the tree-dead months, when Boreas’ Curse
lays on the land. October is laughter
for fun; there’s still tree sap. But for the us,
because all the earth sleeps good, the wonder
comes that we roused something in this coldness.
Your jeans pulled down … call this a … revival.
Fingers curled in a C, stroking shocked fur.
Your mouth opens … spiritual agonies …
or ecstasies … they’re the same when knuckle
deep. Let the gods slumber through dead winter.
All I ask: “if you want to cum say please.”