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Trysts Of The Sundown

By Trisha Humayun

A soul craving to be punished,
A body yearning to be loved.
Held in your captivity,
You rescue my dying spirit.
Clenched in your grip,
No place else would I wander off.
My dirty desires dished on the table,
Your ravenous eyes promulgate my thoughts,
You make me your nosh,
And gollop every smidgen,
Yet we remain esurient.
As if bereft of our sensual endeavours.
You, my master
I, your odalisque
Your command is my demand .
My cerise wrists are your gift to me ,
My crimson cheeks to you .
Incessantly want to be seized in your gaze .
Lost in your peart fervor ,
You're my eternal locust.
You pour your crystal champagne ,
And my mouth bubbles your love.
Squiffy in the depths of twilight.


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