Erotic Poetrya work of artThe sun streams into my window,
high above the city streets
sunbeams caressing your body
stretched out on my bed.
Early morning light is kind
to your angles and curves,
illuminating your pale bare skin,
softly aglow with a fire within
like a cut of the finest alabaster.
Caressing you now
would break the image.
I can only gaze,
stroke the soft curls atop your head,
wach you breathe
asleep and unaware
of the stunning sight
of your own creation.
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