dustybit's Blog
sonnet vii

Through my thoughts You sashay 'pon the hour,
Your fair rear, or sweet face the quarters marks.
And when my imaginning with you embarks
It can with such ease, whole days devour.
If Your blouse too light, up your back ascends
And reveals a pale beguiling crescent.
i could not conceive a sight more pleasant,
Or one which greater appeal to You lends.
For next to You, the very sun it dims.
'Tis for You alone, that i rise each dawn.
Slim, beauteous, delicate as a fawn,
Elegance finds its meaning in Your limbs.
In contemplation of Your subtle curves,
i find more joy than any man deserves.


Posted by dustybit 2 years ago
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