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Saturday, 5 May 2007

A Night Of Ten Thousand Tales

Sheesha puffs waft coyly, curling,
wrapping in warmth
Heady and seductive
A woman's flesh pressed against
His Trunket of True Treasures, beholding
dreams of old

that waft
coyly, seductively
as the fragrant sheesha clouds.
And clouds are never
Quite the same.
His gaze turns from the steady beat
of writhing flesh and perilous
Quests for silver, to the
fragrant mystery, heartbroken.


they were gone

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