Monday, December 04, 2017

Nothing can stop us wolves from howlin

Nothing can stop us wolves from howling.

Not the passive aggressive middle aged office hags, dragging themselves through uninspiring marriages, bemoaning their drugged up offspring who should be smarter than they are.

Not the starry eyed hipsters who cower in soft lighted rooms, posing in their underwear, influencing nothing more than their inflated ego

Not time and space, the fabrics thereof, red traffic lights and stuffed train carriages, rusty chains and wet shoes.

Not nightmares and bills, the shrieks of fairies, fascists and homophobes, bitches and trolls, the pandemonium of adjacent lives.

Nothing can stop us wolves from howling.

We dance like wolves, through crowds of sheep and mice with hungry  eyes and envious lips.

We fuck like wolves, our cocks hard and unrelenting just by the scent of each other.

We love like wolves, healing old wounds and roaming like a pack, even if apart.

We live like wolves, if only in our dreams and future plans, where the world is ours


Nothing can stop us wolves from howling.

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