Whirlwind romance
A weekend romance
A romantic bow-hunting getaway
Starring you
Starring me
And weekend we could , perchance, attempt to forget only to fail
Our memories dialing in to the image of two cupids , strings taught toward outward angles. Angels with twain compound bows
alive together in in the lust for the blood of antelopes, no longer left to go stag.
I’m buck with the doe.
