Centaur, mounting
an exhausted nymph
after a chase,
grunting
with each thrust
the trembling shape,
moaning,
receives, lustful
curves
under his thundering
hoofs, prize
that soon
will fleet-footed
lead him again
over the hills
in green robes
and singing streams
on whose sides
she will again
lay down, wait
in desire
for his shape
to hide the Sun
as her blood
reverberates
in the sound of his coming,
as now.
22.-26.05.2025
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