Poetry: “Faun”

Hell[o].

California is burning again, crippling areas near my hometown. The stress and worry has left me very weary. Distractions abound, but they are more welcome than usual, so when I stumbled upon the Daily Prompt, I said, “What the hell.”

Here is where hell led me.

trevor-paterson-385595
Photo by Trevor Paterson on Unsplash

my nail[claw]s are too long—

a caress there, a hand here

and crimson speckles skin.

Stray here, fall there,

no girl will know a gun, not from me.

I am a place of being, but

the being always comes with time,

cloaked in queries — where am I,

                                       where are they,
                                       where are you,
                                                                    o wise faun?

the wary are welcome, but you _____

do not trespass here,

you, you, and you, over there,

come for the bounty between their legs.

I know why your daughters avoid you—

they think the [d]evil li[v]es

in [you]

[me]

© Cat and Moth Writings
All Rights Reserved

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