Yes I know it is not yet Poetry Month (April.. but what can I say.. I just have this singular obsession I am dealing with.. )
I love your lips when they're wet with wine
And red with a wild desire;I love your eyes when the lovelight lies
Lit with a passionate fire.
I love your arms when the warm white fleshTouches mine
in a fond embrace;
I love your hari when the strands enmesh
Your kisses against my face.
From I Love You by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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