The Meadow

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I’m breathless, from running in the meadow deep∼while trying to distinguish the weeds from the trees

I’m panting, mouth open and pleading for more ∼so restless, still moving my tongue back and forth

I’m wanting, from wandering around in the snow∼licking my lips and savoring the cold

I’m falling, from slipping on rocks in the brook∼rubbing my thy up and down where it hurts

I’m confusing sleep with being awake∼fading in and out of dreams as the blood starts to seep.


Author: Katestrawberry

I am a published author and writer/editor available for hire. I create abnormal, strange, and sometimes slightly erotic poetry. Crazy Girl. Creative Genius.

8 thoughts on “The Meadow”

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