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Watching
He
watched himself
Watch her painting
In that magical time
That sometimes mystically
Happens past midnight,
He was amazed at how
Entranced he was with
Her movements,
The erotic curves,
The swirls,
The softness,
The hardness,
The heat of her
She turned and saw
Him watching himself
Watch her movements,
Left her easel and touched
Him teasingly with the tip
Of her brush,
And
then all
Heaven broke out in an array
Of color that leaves you tired,
Tired in a really good way.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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