Erotic PoetrySepia
She moves in pale sepia
through bordered halls
and shadowed incandescence –
white dress momentary
as deft fingers seize
at lacy possibilities
and promises whisper
over yielding flesh
to press the motion
of opening doors, hinges
moan of the passing scent,
the touch, to feel the soft
yet ever fleeting blur
of a waning afterglow
and her footsteps in the hall.
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