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Lace wings

February 21, 2014

My tattered wings
beat,
Seeking
cool sensual mist,
caress every aspect
contour
physical and spiritual,
strange aphrodisiac.
This sensual veil,
portal from dreaming
all too often ripped
Open without reverence
Part me with anticipation,
Where is my king
To spare my wings?

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From → poetry

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