Bonny Doon
By SeanPublished about a month ago • Updated 27 days ago • 1 min read
Photo by Billy Huynh on Unsplash
degenerates of the crags and the coves
we spoiled at the sunless feet of redwoods
.
a churning bazaar of golden slugs
our slow and sour stripping
.
of perception left us to navigate
an endless bed of wet needles
.
there was no containing the thrill
of moonlit rendezvous
.
our bodies caked in dirt
rose-naked and drunk with thirst
.
we drew in
the coniferous dew
.
what ecstasy of myth was unearthed
to concoct such exquisite smut
About the Creator
Sean
A lover of soft cheese and delayed gratification. I prefer plants to people, more often than not. Dirt is my medicine and filth a form of therapy. Most of these words should find a home among compost but hey, at least I'm still writing.
Comments (4)
Well, that certainly was a portal back through time and space.
i agree, that last line was great, loving your unique views. Subscribed to read more
Your final line - just the right twist to make it all yours and new to our eyes! There's a neighbourhood called Bonnie Doon in my city - I was excited to see if you are a fellow resident, but I assume that you have the original location, whereas I have the staid residential and decrepit mall version...
“Exquisite smut” is a new idea to me! Wonderfully sensory-rich poem