She was whispering in his ears how afraid she was.
I remember he was holding her tight in the evening sun.
He slowly caressed her unripe breasts.
She seemed to shake but she forced herself to smile and then she drunk honey from his lips.
I don’t remember which year it was but if you somewhen pass by, you might be able to read it on me.
He left his mark on us both: on me their names, in her his seed.
(The Olive Tree Tales)
2 comments:
Hi nice little story, I am curious what the tree will see next. And where he stands ;-)
A wizard
As you can see, I have kept my promise!
I was very lucky to find your book on the seat of that ship ...
ciao
Emanuele
(I am testing my English... I know, it will laugh!)
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