work of art

to not stop the insanity of love,
a tenderly memories' cascade
intones thru the veins of a poet,
gentle breaths masked in lust

from an elixir of a laced chalice
guided by the kissed dreams
in the whispers of the wishes,
a sense triumphs into a passion

grounded into a time, undirected,
longing's gravity it gesticulates
charming confessions about us,
miming geography of our words

never problems, just work of art

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by her

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sloe gin

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