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Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Discomfort


 
Long legged schoolgirls
Stalk my window
Swaying forth
The essence of their youth.

A fragrance lingers
In the still cold air
A heady mixture
Of forbidden fruit.

Herein the transport
Of delight
The all consuming
passion of possession

A whispered  call
Carried through
Their promise
Of transgression

Beware beware
Concupiscence!
Whatever you may feel
It will be a sin,

Enjoyment yes
But still a sin.
Perhaps because it does not scan.

JL Jan 17  15:31


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