The tongue of a gypsy wakened me from my reverie..
She spoke of refulgence,
kindled diamonds from laps of sand
Her fire, my winds dance along leaves of willows shaken hand...
my knees weak, pelvic quavering from mortal sin..
Her gentle fingers traced my lips, qwivering of desperation
Beauty speckled across the rose of inviolable creation
in awe, my reverence she held captive,
Her burning piquancy, I will not forgive
Her lips made of ruby, A coyest kiss of impetus
she became the ferment of my structure
the articulacy uttering of my agnomen
convulsant from her dulcet delivery
left me tender.melting cherubically in the wings of she.
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