pixies, crosses, fire-dance and apple-pie
the yearly quota of harvest delicately placed on tables
the bonfire crackles, occasionally conjuring forth rustic pipe-dreams of bold intrigue and jolly laughter
the festivities, they never cease
ebony-dressed women playfully arouse garmented men with seductive persuasiveness
they step inside the circled perimeter of crosses and undress each other, beginning the ritual of mating
and the harvest festival, hath already ended
No comments:
Post a Comment