Harlequin


The moon's faintly bleeding ray
Shed silken shadows upon plush skin.
Never beseeching day,
This languishing harlequin.

The eyes of this flame,
That flare with simper flushes,
Make a feral tame
To exchange these flustered blushes.

Barren thoughts admit fruitful cupidity.
Although, in fine feather of sense,
Inept palaver spurts free...
Nonsense.

The air ripens into barmy howls in eventide.

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