Evening Cut Short

February 17, 2009
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Your russet cheek it lies and waits
It cries and yearns for my own
Your silhouette amongst white linen
Smoothes out the wrinkled surface

Your every move entraps me longer
But soon it will be morning
Your scent it lingers between my lips
Those simple lips their only tricks

The raven cries to welcome dawn
The thought of end becomes distress
The rays of light fade out our love
And soon you'll only be a mere dove.

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