wishper softly'

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wishper softly'

wishper softly'
' wishper softly'
I can see you, my love;
you arrive with wind swept hair
and whisper softly
against my pillow.
With a touch, you bring
the summer heat
to my heart
and a garden full
of lush red roses.
The taste and feel of you
is delicious,
and I feast on your closeness,
while fire sizzles along my
every nerve.
As the stars burn
in a black velvet sky,
I'm lost to you and the
familiar and magnificent
tug of desire that
only you can inspire

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In science one tries to tell people, in such a way as to be understood by everyone, something that no one ever knew before. But in poetry, it's the exact opposite.

Franz Kafka (1883-1924) Czech writer.