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By wistful Date: 2002 Sep 14 Comment on this Work [[2002.09.14.12.32.15692]] |
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She gave herself to pleasure's promise Damning consequence and shame For his smile and numbing touch, For quick passion's sweetest pain. And in the hollow predawn haze She stumbled from his darkened den Where he sleeps so safe and spent Where she lost what honor meant. How alive she felt that night How bright that mocking morning light. How clear it is, so far from home That she is strikingly alone. |