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Mirrors
The mirrors that she sends
On occasion
Transcend thoughts about
Her simply naked,
And
take you to that place
Of adoration
That usually only years
Of knowing bring,
Not discounting
The physical embrace
Of passion,
Yet the scent of her soul,
The glimpse of her mind,
Take you past the
Fashion
Into the realms
Where love is holy and
Truly made.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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