James Peranteau Poet Romanticism

hirsute lips

.

                        'twere walk'n
                             with'er
                          de la mano
                    and everyone were 
                            watch'n
                        az her lovely
                          reach'd up
                         latch'n unto
                     mine face'z mane
                       wit hern clip'd 
                 way back mitt's digits
                        to plant hern
                              thick
                               hot
                               lips
                            where 
                          but mine

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