Instinct - State Of Being

Your scent

It’s on the ground

No matter how I fight it, my instinct hunts you down

Your words

Are so profound

And my appetite’s enticed by every single syllable you sound

As my instinct hunts you down

You roam

And you breathe

The midnight air — the spider’s web

The dust blows thru the trees

You roam

And you breathe

The midnight air — this tangled web

The fear blows thru the trees

I grope the air

My fingers clutch

Your instinct to run is overcome in need of touch