Working her hands
As she cleans the tables
With magnificent strength
But soft as a turtledove
I notice her joyful smile
My words a few
As my tongue began to tighten
No action shall come between us
To a monument of speculations
As my heart bleeds
For her sponge of hope
I exit
How can a delicate woman clean a lustful soul?
Watching from afar
While leaving her alone
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