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MY MALE COMPANION I thumb his pages with tender caress as his scent sensually fans my face He draws me into his web of gold spun tales In his shoes I walk many lands some in time long past some in time yet to come I become a queen, witch, a whore and a princess warrior all in one wicked afternoon Each page starts in a poem and ends in a tear of pain, joy, sorrow or madness His tattered pages are frail in my hands but the power they wield is that of unfathomable depth I have held many lifetimes in his leather bound arms Kissed many heroes with his 'parched' lips And seen many dreams to fulfillment throught his eyes |
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