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Aug 2014
The sound of her voice, like a melody slow
And the sight of her beauty, with it's perfect glow
The warmth of her body, pressed against mine
That look in her eyes, and their endless shine.
The days of perfection, so good times we did spend
Alone just us two, why did they end?
Her perfectly shaped lips, delicious and soft
And kisses that sent, my heart spiraling aloft.
All that is gone now, slipping away
If only she'd give me, just one more day.
The Last Wordsmith
Written by
The Last Wordsmith  New Zealand
(New Zealand)   
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