…the face I can’t forget
Bewitched inside that scarlet black wrapped
where no curls are displaced, just stray wisps
beneath silk scarves, you’ll follow snaking hips
with wanting eye, urging her to come to me
in more curves than ever will surge River Nile.
Ah, your travelling looks,
they roam, they kiss
just this side of fitting
modesty and promise
and once you whispered but
for that you risk,
all I could even dream
would be given in tryst,
lissom negligent fingers
traced my nape’s bliss.
For you only I will deny
him this lace he lusts
which sculpts and clings
me, says sinful things
that burst these seams
your pleasures bring
to the very brink and sink
us knotted in trust:
oh, these silks are weak
that have me trussed.
Push him far from sound,
out of her mind’s eye,
coyly comes her calling when
together you’ll try
the patience of these
flimsy things in hush duet.
She knows how busy tongues
bring loving debt,
kneel tenderly before your
face I can’t forget.
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