His handHoveredHe held his handUpon her waistAs if to say“You are my possession now"QuiveringHis handEager to hold the handleOf her hipEager to handleHoveringThis handBetrayed his sheepish smileBetrayed his calculated advancesA lame, smirking sheep“Hush now"His wordsLike smoked honeyDribbled from his mouthAnd quietly pressed upon her willHis eyesSparklingBelieving themselves the eyes of a wolfHidden within clever woolMirai smiledsheepishly, tooForcing a blushHer eyesScintillatingAs if containing the moon itselfShroudingThe eyes of a foxPlastered overUnimpressedAnd indifferent"Shall we then?"Her wordsLike sugarRushed into his lungsInto his bloodOverpowering his crumbling willHer waistHandledHis handWho this man wasWhat this man wantedMattered notShe would be taking from himShe would be taking from himBecause life was unkindBecause every nightHer stomach growledBecause all humans didWas takeBut most of allBecause Nozomi.⋮The man lies with Mirai.⋮A lone sheep wakesIn the dead of nightCold beads of sweatOn a pale and sunken faceA pit in its stomachAs if missing something it once hadBut unable to place itShiveringThe sheep tries to forgetWhat it cannot rememberAnd returns toIts uneasy slumber.
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