The Hunt

Eyes grow wide, sweet adrenaline
Coursing through, a strange rushing
Of hot blood, primal thrills
In every bounding leap
A sadistic desire to consume
And in devouring be devoured.
Tooth and claw give way
To lips and subtle hands,
The chase now a bantering
Back and forth, between bodies,
Deepening blacks and flesh
Embalmed in honey and fire.
Snapping at necks, teeth sink lovelier
Into shoulders and vulnerabilities,
Relishing the sighs, small releases
Of pleasure and coy surprise.
Grins in the dark are most delectable,
Mischievous things that must be doused with a kiss;
A precursor to the great and momentary extinguishing
Of an eternal flame.
Shivers follow fingernails
Over arching backs and skin,
Golden as wheat and predators are,
And cries of battle are whispered
So close to ears that they are felt
Rather than heard.
Hair falls, messy
As the world is,
Over the pair,
And the sky blesses them,
The grass kisses them,
The sun smiles down;
What a beautiful thing,
Its solar progeny
And their games of love and war.
Eyes are paralytic, fear and excitement
Are in their glorious shards of colour
Before the final rest, the small death
That shall befall them both
As earthly children,
Out here in the open,
Free from buildings and concrete footings.
Blue sky encircles them;
They dance in the open fields
As gazelles do with lions,
Beautiful and inevitable;
They share looks and breaths
That others cannot.
The final blow is a gentle one,
And they are reposed,
Dignified and resolute.
The outstretched neck permits
A gasp, more beautiful than anything it has passed before,
As the energy leaves them
And they are fused, as they always have been,
To one another.
Oh, how the world sings for them now,
These sun-fed things.

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