Lust In Love
Wriggled in her arms.
Lost in an adventure of romance, moving far afield.
Though I have no weakness for writing,
my story got underway.
Wallowing in the admiralty of her beauty
Adorned with beautiful antique ornament
Adulterated with the laudable attribute of nature
Epitomizing the 6th day work,
and the adroit molding of the creator.
Ensconced on her chest for an aeon of time.
Only my hands left to keep the memory of time.
Touching the acme of her chest,
Pointing like that of Sheba.
Turning it to a piccolo, without an acoustic.
Acknowledging the season between her legs,
warming the cold in my hands.
Letting my hand becoming an ace,
and my phalanges adept in describing her.
My eyes falling over itself
to keep the facsimile of her body,
and my skin falling in with my eyes,
as two spent swimmers that do cling together.
Feeling her permed hair,
blowing like a frond tree by the river.
Her eyes shining like a cat
which has never been afeared
Her skin like flowers that never fade in autumn
and less of acne in winter.
I wish our spirit is adjoined forever
Like fifes and drum that make a good sound,
Keeping myself in the light of your love
praying it never fade.
I wish I wake up in my trance
Wishing I say all these to your face
And see it received.
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