To Ilse
She made beauty a birthright, my Ilse.
Her rosy cheeks, rouge unneeded,
shadowed her dark eyes.
I was impressed by her,
depraved by her,
all at once humiliated for her.
A hunger lingered inside me,
craving her name.
Still my salvation was denied by time
and the fleeting hours turned me mad.
Her finitude, my hellfire.
My temptation.
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