Along the avenues where the looks accuse and they starch the curtains white.
No moral.
I attribute this kiss of denial and death to the hot Summer breath in the light evening air, she was there, but it wasn't her who led me to the water and laid me to drink.
If I think long and ******* the why she will pardon me, not be too ******* me, If, and again my mind plays the truant.
Complicit in the crime, I claim it a complicated time, but she says, 'it's mine and mine alone'.
I find a home in the kennels for the night.
Tempted by unsullied veils and still she fails me.
Bedding down now on the outside and how do you feel?