Dispatches from the wilds of Poetania – Snares

I can think of no better death
than ensnared
in the long nets you’ve cast
deep into the undersea rivers of my lust
dragging me
inch by inch
onto the long white beaches of your thighs
pulled gasping
from the cool, silvery light
exploding into the bright, exquisite reality
above reality -
no little death,
but the
ultimate exhaustion
that lies
at the end of your nets.

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