Meeting a Lovelies
Water sparkles from her form
she is the sun
the lake alive with
Leda bathing,
her oils suckled by the blue
Beckons an antithesis of swans
a bedraggled black hen
humbled beneath the mud
turned reverent by the easy grace
in a divine smile
comes lonely to worship
So full of awe he cannot see
the foul beneath the fair
And with a stroke from fractured femme
becomes her slave
She, bored and pissed at no white wizards
decides to tear his little black wings
in a heap
an analgetic to disgust
which plagues her.
Wingless, poor bird
(who hardly flew before,)
waddles off unsteady
Knowing of Lilith.














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