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A Poets love note
I let my thoughts spill
My mouth were the pen
Your body the paper
On it I could retrace
A sculpture with grace
Desire a burning light
A groaning sight
Was this pen's plight
Form of ecstasy, pure delight
My mouth were the pen
Your body the paper
On it I could retrace
A sculpture with grace
Desire a burning light
A groaning sight
Was this pen's plight
Form of ecstasy, pure delight
