April 8
Desire pictures a woman,
almost caught by the late summer light
and by the man she pleases now.
Never in the decay, of the void
of a life. of living quietly and forgotten.
April 9
How can one think of the bed,
when books and papers are covering it?
And then the night, not beckoning
but covering you with pleasures.
It's at night,
When the pure black is calling you
To forget the day's morals, while
the cold air swirls the warm flesh.
Yes the Muse is here and I pick the pen.
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