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 Walkin on Air

Siren Lolita



Like a bubbling stream,

like a haunting dream,

like a joyful song

she moves me along

her path of exquisite pain

where gain is loss

and loss is gain;

here melancholy hope

grows lonely as moss:

soft, but without scope.


 

 

Her fairness

I undress,

wanting to be

with what I see;

yet, know I must flee

such virginity!







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