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- Erotic Poetry
- Monday Morning
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It is monday morning,
the clouds are sleeping
and the sun splashes past blinds
on your face, a smile, a kiss...
Traces of the night play along your lips,
fingers, curled around my arm - so tight
you were, my angel, my little girl...
Work beckons rudely with the clamor of alarms,
yet exhaustion and well stoked desire stir me awake.
It is Monday morning and I have work to do - in you.
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