Just she comes on my page,
And puts some words of her thinking,
“You are in my heart.”
With one picture of a woman’s portrait of beauty.
The love as I begin to make with woman
Comes like the picture in the enclosure,
She is sitting with legs crossed in beauty throne,
Hands are crossed upon her breasts,
As if she is declaring to occupy love
As she is in peers on love, sheer upon path,
Her posture and eyes are in search of light,
That I can learn her dreams - lore of love.
I stay in her looks and her engaged and assembled
The body that gives a good painting
That pours more ignitions to be lost in her love-strikes,
Again I want to tell her, on her wall, “I love you, too.”
When she is in dream picture of love asylum,
I am in peak of hearing the screams of pleasure,
More we move in liking in covers of elements,
I am eager to invest my body and mind in her
facilitations.
First she is queen, second she loves, third she is
posting
The significance of love, all is circumstantial vision
To love again, in between born and reborn amplitudes,
Her message is the source to connect with prayer for love.
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