When for the first time
The tenderness of the yours
Will touch the soul of mine
When, fingers will crease through
the roughness of cold skin
When, perfect sculpted lips,
will soak in the pomegranate’s juice
touch the scariest wound of mine
When, the aroma of sweets running
down in the valley through the neck
will force me to expel a moan in pleasure
I’ll realise, every battle and pain
and torture and sacrifice is
justifiable & endurable;
For you, for you, for you……

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