Her Hunger For More Seed
J
James McLain
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Each field is barren white with snow
around me blind, they know.
I see
that darkness brings the haze of dawn
how many must it show.
While many miles of roads I traveld on
my pale flesh
by she it grows and grows.
Bringing home the wheat
ground white
and powdered souls
spread open far and wide.
Touching only youth
by she and men.
Each gem from polished stone
pours out and lost our seed it keeps
it keeps her pure.
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