The Decreasing Moon
An adolescent dawn, an adult noon,
an elderly twilight, an ageless dusk…
I wonder why in the decreasing Moon
I love you love when I am a bit brusque
with you. Your acquiescence, your retreat,
your sweet participation in the crime
against morality tempts me to treat
you like you do deserve: to pick up rhyme
with your obedience, to find the most
salacious likeness which is not enough
to properly describe your innermost
enigma of the lust. Oh, how I love
your shameless bareness, your exposed moles
and the increasing Moon when we swap roles.
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