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The Mirror I do not know this woman The one he sees when he’s with me. I am shy and timid She is wild and free. His touch is quite exquisite, His kisses leave me weak. I am wanton; ablaze with desire And all he need do is speak. He tells me I’m exciting, Passionate, sensual, bold. But, I’m only uninhibited, When I am in “his” hold. I do not know this woman The one he sees when he’s with me. I am only pretty She is glorious to see. I melt at his caresses And when he says he loves my eyes. Loves the way they open; When we echo lover’s cries. He tells me I am beautiful My hair, my breasts, my hips! "Look at yourself" he urges; As he gently bites my lips. I do not know this woman, Who he turns me to see. Oh God! I stare in wonder, At the woman, that is me. |
Additional Notes:
To Joe... Who showed me the woman he sees.
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