I saw a mystic,
she reminded me of you.
The curls of her hair,
reminded me of the waves over your chest
curtains over your bare breasts they fall.

Her hollow cheeks,
just like the craters of your smile,
hint starvation.
The empty bowl in her hand Urged me to fill it,
like your arms seek my embrace,
I cannot satisfy the hunger of either

The grains I carried spilled on the ground as she fell in front of me, someone threw a stone at her.
The sight of her naked skin
was too much for the lustful eyes surrounding us.
They couldn’t have her,
so they accuse her of immorality.

When they befall me,
they don’t see my immodesty.
But the day I declare my passion for you, I’ll be a whore too.

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