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Ah Amaterasu, do you watch my every move? Do you hunt by the full moon? Do you check I visit your shrine, that I worship you, with words and wine, that I feed you with my desire, and please you, with my fervour?



 Is it not enough, that you are my goddess? Not enough, that I want, need your breasts, so much? That I prostrate myself, across the floor for you, live in piety, and spill my seed on you? And what if I wake, from my stupor, and find I need a goddess no more?


I felt your presence

in the forest last night

catching my scent

eyes like distant moons

intent as hungry as the dark