Longing

I long to find a
Forgotten woodland trail and
Tread where faeries have.

To bury my feet
In grey sands and tired waves,
And watch the sun bleed.

To tan my pale skin;
For this relentless Summer
To last forever.

To caress bronze skin,
Run my fingers through black curls,
To kiss paint-red lips.

To hear the great works
Pour forth from a pretty mouth.
Some Poe would be nice.

Feel a foreign sun
Upon my shoulders, and to
grin a loving grin.

The constellations
In their places are obscured;
I wish to see them.

To listen to tales
Of the ancient Gods, long dead,
From one much wiser.

To find adventure,
And forget this corrupt world
For just a while.

To walk a boardwalk
And wink at the pretty girls
As they pass me by.

To watch the young ones
Walk in their unsure way, and
Nap one on my chest.