the two-headed calf
tomorrow,
when the farm boys find this freak of nature,
they will wrap his body in newspaper,
and carry him to the museum.
but tonight he is alive,
and in the north field with his mother.
it is a perfect summer evening:
the moon rising over the orchard,
the wind in the grass.
and as he stares into the sky,
there are twice as many stars as usual.
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It always upsets me so much when I see interpretations/illustrations of the two headed calf poem that show a living calf being torn away from its mother and killed to sell to a museum and framing the poem as being "humanity kills beautiful things for being different".
Two headed cows almost never survive more than a few hours after their birth. The farmer finds the *body* the next day. The calf was destined to die, and that's a tragedy, but for the time it was alive, it had a beautiful and unique experience.
It's not a poem about the cruelty of man. It's a poem about the beauty of life in an indifferent universe. It's about purpose and beauty being able to exist even in an existence doomed to come to an end, as all our lives are. It's not a poem about how a calf dies, but how, even for only a brief moment, it was alive.
And, for that moment, because of that life, however fleeting, the sky had twice as many stars.
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horny abby watching the reader show her island in animal crossing until she starts teasing reader and making her drop the game to help her plss
cw: nipple sucking, tribbing, limited animal crossing knowledge, abs gets a little possessive
“plucky..i hate this freak,” you sigh, showing abby the screen of your nintendo switch. she didn’t look at the screen, her eyes were fixed on you. “abs! look!” she looks for a split second, her eyes then back on you.
“abs, i’m trying to give you a tour of my island. you have to watch,” you whine, dropping your switch to hold abby’s jaw softly, turning her to face your screen.
“i’m looking, baby. who’s that?” she asks, pointing to the chicken villager.
“that’s plucky! i just told you about her! you’re not even listening!” you laugh, shaking your head.
“i’m sorry, baby,” she says softly, moving her head to start to place soft kisses on your stomach, trailing down to the waistband of your underwear.
“abs, that tickles, stop it,” you take one hand off your console, looking down at abby, tucking a stray piece of hair that had fallen out of her braid behind her ear.
“abs, i’m trying to show you something. please pay attention. look, i wanna show you the museum,” abby crawls back up, laying her head on your chest.
“‘m paying attention, baby.”
“you better be.”
minutes pass and you think you’ve distracted abby, but your eyes widen as she trails her hand down your stomach, cupping your cunt gently. your legs open subconsciously, just a force of habit. abby’s breathing gets heavy and your back arches at her cold touch.
“abs,” you whine. she smirks, applying pressure on your clit. your soft gasp gets louder as abby starts to kiss your neck softly, her kitten licks slowly reaching your collarbones, then she rips your shirt off of your body, attaching her lips to your nipple.
“abby!” you moan, dropping your console and it slips to the side of you, your hand reaching for abby’s hair, the other on her shoulder. “don’t pick that back up,” abby warns, you nod submissively. her hand on your cunt comes up, almost ripping your pants apart as she takes them off, your panties along with them. her mouth moves to your other tit, her middle and ring finger stuffed into your pretty, weeping pussy. “mmm, fuck, abs. kiss- fuck, kiss me, please,” you beg, holding abby’s jaw softly as she engulfs your lips in hers, her fingers fucking into you harder. her tongue swiping your bottom lip, opening your mouth in retaliation, letting her tongue inside. she pulls away as you whimper.
“don’t cum. i know you’re close, but don’t. want you to cum with me.”
abby pulls your leg up, your foot on her shoulder. she slots herself in between your legs, her cunt just centimetres up from your own.
“abs, please. please, need to feel you,” you beg once more, sighing contently as abby’s clit is placed against yours. her hips move slowly, her grip on your calf tight. you move your hips with hers. “god, you’re so wet, baby. love this fuckin’ pussy. my fuckin’ pussy. belongs to me,” abby groans, each sentence forcing her hips harder and faster, your shared bed moving with each thrust. you nod along with her, your eyes closed tight.
“‘m so close, abs. please. want you to cum too, please,” you say breathily.
“i know, baby. m gonna cum right on this perfect pussy. give it to me, baby. come on. i’m right here with you,” abby encourages, as she lets go all over you, you do the same.
your breathing is heavy and abby climbs off of you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “gorgeous girl.”
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can you please do "two headed calf" by laura gilpin?
Tomorrow when the farm boys find this
freak of nature, they will wrap his body
in newspaper and carry him to the museum.
But tonight he is alive and in the north
field with his mother. It is a perfect
summer evening: the moon rising over
the orchard, the wind in the grass. And
as he stares into the sky, there are
twice as many stars as usual.
String identified:
T t a t
a at, t a
a a ca t t .
t tgt a a t t
t t. t a ct
g: t g
t ca, t t ga. A
a ta t t , t a
tc a a ta a a.
Closest match: Clivina fossor genome assembly, chromosome: 7
Common name: Ground beetle
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