Summer October 15, 2004
Your radiance was divine.
Your color, passionate.
But when you passed,
Your passing made me want to perish.
Now, there is a barren landscape,
And vultures circling the skies
Over your discolored, rotting corpse.
But, I dare not taint the processes of nature,
For you will return to me, fair Summer.
We will make love again,
And I will not have to suffer forever,
'Tis all temporary, indeed.
Yes, Summer, yes.
Your season's turn will come to pass again.
At that time, I will see the curvatures
Which I feel every time I caress your body,
Your breasts, which I cup and massage vigorously,
Your long, splendid legs that always leave me breathless,
Your ruby-red lips that tease the most sensitive of my body parts.
Yes, Summer, yes.
You will bloom to be a red, red rose again.
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