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Elizabeth Maua Taylor

A twilight embrace

Encase the room,

Perfume of old

Mingled with jasmine light.

Bright sparks of fireplace ember fair, 

Hair of brown

Down my back,

Caught in your hands.

Limbs curling lightly

Like undulating tendrils,

Cool breezes blowing from the fan

Span the echoes that pound in my veins,

Reined in your fold

You hold gently the task,

Of tenderly taking the mask

Off my face.

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