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Love's Manacles
You are the Angel of curiousity and poison,
in my little shop of errors.
You are my penance, a dungeon as I sentence myself in pre-judiced derision stoked,
with desire's frosted manacle,
plunging in like a fool
who told the King an off colored joke.
A daring maniacal look,
that lingered too long like a challenge
waiting to be received-
in a thieves den to be took. Illy-perceived.
I threw caution to a Jezebel wind,
now, what will become of me?
Copyright ©
Jude Herrick
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