monstergalpri

Wild thing, you were the cotton-grass twisting in the wind. You longed to lie with him in the bracken and moss, let your hair tangle like vines in the earth, feel his calloused hands warm yours as the ground chilled your cheeks. You reveled in his voice, craggy as the crumbling rocks, timbre deep as the brown of his eyes. It was all you wanted and pushed away. Now you wither at his name, the guilt-ridden beast in your heart gnawing ravenously at the thought of the smell of moonshine on the moors, making love in the whispering night. You heard him howl, tortured and broken when your spirit dashed off without him, and n