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The Painting



Sex for the mind
Her golden curls shining back at him
He reached for her heart
Grasped her evening gown shadow
That once did flit
Across his sallow art
Her butterfly figure dancing languidly
Buttery naked, paint-me naked
Can’t quite tell her apart
Lips or voice, spine or breast
Mocking his silver-bell laughter
Watch her touch your heart



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Comments

  • mrgoose
    May 14, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    hmm. your gonna have to explain this to me. haha