Jezebel
I recall it was in the way you walked,
Or could it be the way you spoke?
Perhaps the way you called my name,
Or even how you smelt like an Eden garden?
Your eyes were white as the clouds,
Perhaps they were black as the coal?
That skin of yours as smooth as air,
Smooth like the forgotten ground.
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I remember it was in June we met,
When the autumn winds rustled,
You asked for the scarf I wore,
To chase away the blazing heat.
I remember your name very well,
I heard it with these closed ears,
I sang out to you each night,
With a serene muted voice.
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