In Our Secret Cove, by BanWynn (Suta) Oakshadow

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Lace-edged wavelets between, betwixt our legs be-twined,
Drowning not our passionate ardor, nor tempering our love.
Forever impassioned, imprinted in sand, soul and mind
Safe, unseen in our haven, in our Eden, in our secret cove.

Embraces and kisses, caresses, but very little of sin,
I, the richest of all men. You, my sylkie I betrothe.
Clothes and fear fell away, revealing plum blossom skin.
Yet fearful I that my flesh deny my love to you prove.

You smiled, blushed, then said ‘yes’ with your eyes.
Forever that moment when first your secrets I clove.
Nervous until fingers and lips drew out your sighs,
Your wet heat parting, our own waves of flesh move.

Came the night heard your moans as I walked the sands,
For you and another towards our very own stars strove.
Bared flesh on our beach, writhing on our private strand.
That I did I will not deny. I knew not what I was capable of.

Sweet Mother Moon, grant my boon, and me thy child make.
Give me the Kiss that I meet kiss, and wolf the black dove take.
Pain within, pain without, growing thirst for betrayal to slake.
Forever Her’s now, because of you, myself do I forsake.

What sound was it you cried, when first you noticed me?
Gray-furred and clawed, o’er you stand, arm swung from above.
To your words lupine ears deaf. Bronze eyes no longer see.
Love written, droplets in red sand, beside the head I stove.

So wherein lays the guilt? Be it yours or mine to claim?
You called from me a monster with heinous shove.
Red my fur, but how it came to be so, you are to blame.
Heart broken, yours devoured, forever heartless I rove.


BanWynn (Suta) Oakshadow has been a poet, writer, artist and photographer since 1978 He grew up in rural Ohio, lived much of his adult life in the desserts of Colorado and Arizona and lives on a 400 yo farm in Sweden.. He writes about Native American & Viking history, lots of speculative fiction, Child Abuse, Mental Illness and Spirituality. He loves donating works to animal charity anthologies and publications that don’t pay, but give people who live to write and write to live a place to share it. You can find him at uncleoakie.wordpress.com
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Posted on December 21, 2016, in Issue 19: Speculative Poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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