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Apr 2021
In fact I might take to her too sensual,
Or chance that I might make lovers disease,
Or that to when love incomparable
A flight of kisses that to on her cheek:
Or could the love of each other remind
The passion nights and the spoken days?
What words to pour the earthling divine
If angels they talk or spirits they say:
Or might the lips that too much to her feel
Leave bitter thoughts that then sit on her face:
Or when the tests that should love then be real
And no love, no call, to have ever came.
Now poems that sit in between our time,
And love, and our love that figure in line.
Written by
Diesel  22/M/Toronto, Ontario
(22/M/Toronto, Ontario)   
179
 
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