Crow

There was

a poem

here.

It's gone now.

[This post has been removed by the author. If you wish to read it, please contact me directly.]

His flesh lays defenceless

Upon your sinful bed.

Sink your teeth into him.

Not once,

Nor twice;

Thrice, shall I die.

This body first-

(D)are you in(s)ane,

To

De(i)fy the norm?

The nearly empty whiskey bottle tipped over, clattering against the stones as the young woman rolled over in her sleep. The noise was enough to rouse her from the exhausted stupor and she reached out, groping to right the bottle before it spilled any more of it's precious contents.

The harvest is finally in, it was a race against the coming cold and the threat of rain. The hands of the farmers from the Northdowns that Crow and Nettie escorted down to work the fields were exactly what we needed. It is nice to have a full house once again, Mother is in her element with people to take care of and children underfoot. Watching the last of the barley being cut down was a weight off my shoulders, for to lose any of the grain due to lack of labor would be a failing on my part.

Love her

Leave her

Begging

For more.

There was

a poem

here.

It's gone now.

[This post has been removed by the author. If you wish to read it, please contact me directly.]