He wears, with me, the charms of love,
exchanging gentle whispers in storms
of fascinated, trembling union.
He shares with me blue velvet nights
of careful and unmeasurable bliss,
and titivates modest morning rebirths.
He cares for me, reproof us not, we make
no show of virtue, or counterfeit innocency,
but partage, in comfort, this open honesty.
.
.
titivate: make more attractive,...
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