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Thy Lips of Espresso Gold

Thy lips of espresso gold, convey to me, your desperado untold. Thine eyes for your own, merriest of forbidden pleasures, to hold. Your supple smile upon thine own, reveal. Amidst only to conjure, to conceal. Parlay, if I may, to implore the keenest sense of your fulfillment, I adore. Gently now, our merriment. . . embarking upon salutation. No more our desire, of infatuation?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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