A Compliment
Is it wrong of me to be intoxicated
merely by the sight of your long hair,
the length of which so obviously
is just a demonstration of your love
in constant growth and warmth of colour
and so generously manifested in the open?
Once you called me the most sensual of all your lovers,
a compliment that made me tremble,
since I never knew a woman
who had known men better than yourself.
I quaked from bottom up
and do so still each time I see you
in the splendour of your heart's magnificence
so evident in glory only in your hair.
The rest of your ability, nobility and character
is not so obvious and will I keep secret,
as the chamber of our love reserved for us.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2008-01-22 at 13:15
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