Small curves
Within a valley
Formed of luscious hills,
I rest content —
lulled by periodic chills.
I gaze not to the stars above,
But the darkness within —
That small chasm
Of divine sin.
How did you, with such innocence,
Hold me captive?
How did you, with a smile,
Render all, but my soul inactive?
And while your hips are bodacious
And swing so salacious
I pine, yearn, and moan
For your small curves.
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My homage to a smile
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