Maybe it was how His eyes were Her spotlight
Solely focused... Desire specified Her silhouette equivalent to the night A night filled with protesting instruments Voluminous tunes Slithering Her hips into harmony
Maybe it was a transcript A secret note that only The floor and Her heels will ever write It being a love letter Written exclusively for Him because There She was
Only a pitch away and His respirations proceeded to compete With the drums
Or maybe it was Her hips Draped in dangerous red A duplicate shade of Her lips Lips that rose up Solely focused... Desire specified To seal the letter
— Nanda Regine
From "Inside Her Roses"
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