Voyages

              Demons motion well or ill
              the piety of a lovers' hand.
              Topless bodies swirl unfettered.
              Do I dare?
              Break her modesty?
              The river bares all,
              moments of crumbling sentiment,
              run softly down an ancient current.
              Eyes grow wide and role back,
              turned upward in the throbbing rush.
              Wave kisses wave,
              closing round bodies of desire.
              The race is ended.



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