Paradise
we love and lust every waking hour of every passing day.
the bed lay witness to every exhausting adventure.
if only stories of its witness were passed to ink.
books of such beauty are timeless.
everybody subscribes to love.
few have found it in as pure form as you and i.
we spin stars and part seas with the ways we move.
every sway of your body drives me to the ways of a mad man.
as our divine moment passes, we lay in exhausted contentment.
if only i could convey such works of the heart in ink.
then they would all drown in envy.
we love and lust every waking hour of every passing day.
its paradise.
D.R.L.
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