I’M SORRY IF IT’S WRONG TO WRITE YOU

the magnificence
of your eyes, indescribable
of your thighs, unutterable

the splendor of your lips
unspeakable

the voluptious nature
of your breasts bounty
can only be felt
and never understood

you are a incidental
and incredible

to know you
is an experience
beyond poetry

in the shadow
of your miraculous happenstance
effort is folly

the grace of you
giggles, unmoving
like a masterpiece

at all the fools
their little stick pencils and wooden brushes
wiggling sloppy against the walls

trying to impress the muse
who couldnt care less to be used


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