The Wind of Time

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Follow me says the wind.
The Witch steps naked from the shadows.
Follow me says the wind again.
She grabs at a tress of its curling force,
To feel and again, to know the strangeness of its strength.
Her smooth hard form,
Twists within the girdling wind,
And takes a step of innocence.
Follow me says the wind,
For I am old, so very old,
Born of a time before there was a time.
And I am young says the Witch,
Still to be born, still to grow.
She parts her legs eager to know the wind,
Invited it accepts,
It’s soft caress to enter her.
Follow me says the wind,
Without my swaddling arms
How can your wide wings fly?