Being swallowed sky

It's safe to say:


you're a pair of Wings in rush, dear!
the ones that soar upwards and crash deeply in wet grass
you cannot fathom my intentions, dear

Long-limbed, with imposing features
and powder - I've pondered (if it's the weapon that lures me)
With seamless joints and Metal Strings I've been rather consumed
Consumed deeply beneath seabottom even, sinking but loving half-way calf-down

Nonsense, but see the woods or the fabrics: they don't compare they're effortless.
Dearest, you never flinch and that is a thrill, with power saved, that awakens the long-buried that yearn breaths, stinging crawling.

Lacking of whatever fills you whole, what is left to do but swing with steel claws, and metal warm leaves.



Expecting one of them to reach you, reach me.