The hunt lures Them to let Their Wilds free,

Intoxicating like no wine could be,

Arousing in the way foreplay only dreams.

The chase is for the most elusive of prey;

Unbridled ecstasy on a summer day,

And three little words She cannot say.

The aching in the place between Her bones,

The weakness and need to come undone,

They chase and feint until lust has won.

This feeling that always makes Them moan,

Only comes in the summer, far home,

Where the harvest is plentiful and herds of prey roam.

Expanding slowly in its cage of ribs,

Love flutters weakly and almost wins,

But a single jade bead reminds Her monster why it lives.

HIS memories bear their own claws and teeth,

Betrayal as blue as the sky She stands beneath,

"Don't," He begs, but She is no longer weak.

Ribs bend, curling in to protect HER Heart,

As they did from the very start,

Because He loved her then, THEY will forever be apart.

TO my beloved Whiskeyqueenn

Thank you for the story of Bessa and Borson.

My heart breaks for Them.

His arrogance to love one not His dug a canyon between Them only forgiveness can fill in.

Forgiveness She cannot bear to give, even at the site of Her bead in His hair.

She is always reminded by Her wounded heart that while She dreamed only of Him,

To Him, She wasn't even a thought...