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Click hereMy lover's skin is like a china cup
So smooth, so tender, and like unto snow
The feelings it procures they let not up
A dandelion, do I decide to blow?
She stands there naked, pale-lit by the moon
That streams through heav'nly from the clearest sky
Resisting urges that I have to swoon,
Though in that moment I could bliss'ly die
That perfect tableau was so long ago
Too late I find that time's the darkest foe.