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By: Feign~

All poets write of love,
of blonde, brown, black, wind-tossed hair
and brown, blue, green and hazel eyes
diaphanous gowns that dance around
the perfect figure.
.
Breathless sighs and long goodbyes
kisses sweet on honeyed lips
underneath a perfect moonlit night
flowers’ scent and fair delights
butterflies in endless flight
.
never was sweet touch refused
it’s always magical when a caress
slowly strokes down perfect breast
then soft breeze bring them closer still
to warmth of skin, and wantonness
.
these are the perfect nights
of perfect lover’s tales
I’ve been there and I know
I’d wrap myself romantically
and once again there go
.
I will not shun the past
nor ever leave a love so sweet
or forget the rush
I felt the night my love walked by
in hand a toilet brush…..
:o]
.
romance alone, is not enough.
.
Feign