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Jan 2021
She
the most lovely reverie:

you, that delicate voice.

body, gleaming with the perspired idea of what love is

mind, elsewhere
I think I'll join you

invariably trapped in your eyes

we could **** all day, leaving nothing on but an apprehensive guilt

that the other will leave once it's over.
Written by
Franz Bruck  25/Montreal
(25/Montreal)   
189
 
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