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your two eyes worship some evening farther sky
than the four winds around us, breathing with our sighs
perfumed taste tantalizes, in metered measure
as waves of warm skin rise, toward strong pleasure
only where the sacred kiss touches desire;
hunger where your quickened heart ascend even higher
as my lingering love gives voice to your song,
waves lapping restless shores, all night long:
then a still, white dove lies, with entrancing smile
underneath the sly moon's beaming magic wiles.
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