Satyr coming across
a sleeping nymph,
pushing back the branches
carrying summer leaves,
his hand stretching,
reaching out
towards her sleeping form,
its nakes curves one
quick movement away,
quick movement
to end the separation,
a firm breast cupped
by his trembling hand,
a kiss given hesitatingly
on those closed lips,
as another hand shyly
touches a firm buttock.
That will be the satyr
I will come as
into your dream.
06.-07.02.2026
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