No discretion bolstering those eyes,
body repels scarcely with disguise,
you twinge between those thighs....
Boy – just know I hate to deny;
Let senses hear my touch is doing right,
send mauve chills riding down curves of spine,
even within pleas of despite,
place hips closer behind,
push inward hearts to entwine,
such a return to say ye is: mine.
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