The Mortician's Angel

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Closed eyes, hair forming your halo
You rest peacefully
Lips portraying a smile, so mellow
As your gown swirls around your limbs gracefully

Euphoria must be the liquid I consume
Poured out by supernatural spirits
Residing in this sordid room
Creating an ecstasy mankind forbids

Spellbound I am locked in place
Unable to tear my eyes away
Guided to your features by invisible rays
An almost voyeuristic awe begs me to stay

Though the truly enchanting beauty
The symphony of intakes of breath and a steady heartbeat
Is what separates joy from duty
And sighing heavily I cover your silhouette with a dark sheet

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