Newlymet hearts join hands and rush
To secluded parts of forest and brush.
Racing on foot to hide in the night,
Pressed against wood to kiss, touch, and bite.
Giving and taking, whispers give way
To louder lovemaking, before break of day.
With nothing forsaken, just sacred and sweet;
That fleeting, insatiable lover’s first meet.
So wild flowers will come up where you are.
You have been stony for too many years.
Try something different.
“Re-create yourselves: and let this be your best creation.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche