I could have stolen the thing,
Out of spite, from Hell.
Fire dancing, guilt frothing;
Yes, miracles are possible.
Dizzy dreams I had of it;
On my love’s treasured breasts,
On her soft fair temple,
In her deep nubile navel;
In a swanky necklace wrought,
With fine platinum clasps;
Adore her grace and charm
Adorn her black eyes’ sparkle
Celebrate her youthful beauty.
I saw today a red diamond.
Saturday, December 16, 2006
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