The raven and the coyote..

The beggar, just wanted a taste of her skin and her warm lips.

The illusion of love near, made him believe, love was sweet,

love was so good.

Her whiskey kisses made his quiet nights,

more jazzy and aloof love, alive for a second.

…………………………………………………………………………..

She was the raven and he was the coyote, both seeking the sameness.

The singing coyote is telling the moon, give me the long nights and allow me to befriend the forest and the water.

The raven joined him for a midnight meal. Whispered.

The sacred night is going and I am glad, we can share the meal and

we can dance for the ancient gods and we know we are alive.
………………………………………………………………………………….

I told the saddest woman in the tavern, let’s drink and pray for more.

We ain’t dead yet and death don’t want us.

The beer is cold and we have Scottish whiskey to drink.

My sultry rose, cost plenty to be sad and nothing to feel alive.

Dancing Coyote