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I
know it is love since she speaks to me
From her heart of hearts where true love still
dwells;
Marked by the grammar of pain now set free--
My own heart, haven to unspoken spells.
Intoxication by her sultry voice,
Smothers and swallows my own silent strains,
And in supplication, do I rejoice,
By kneeling before her, with these refrains.
She tells me she loves me in unknown ways,
Beyond the wanton wonder her words, wild
With the unwashed weather of passion's phrase--
Cleansing my palate of thoughts thought reviled.
No sound nor word from her magic mouth slips,
Her charms are cast with one kiss from those
lips.
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