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Mar 2012
Kennington in mornings thought
Olive skin and drunken breath
Hairs that slide between newly discovered realms

Beauty, belief
Unapologetic paleness
That fills our room
Steals my breath

A single kiss
That leaves me blind
And mute

The discovery of hands of feet
A perfect back with muscled tone
That shines upon our beings complete

A thousand years
Per you are still
The rich heir of all my tears
Edgar Whitman Wilde
Written by
Edgar Whitman Wilde
652
 
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