Her and the Past

Her long elegant legs,

Oh, how I long for!

Her lush features, as if

They hand been hand crafted.

Or perhaps they were hand carved,

A provocative hand drawing

Dramatic features.

Oh, how I long for!

In nights like tonight, I wonder:

Why couldn’t they be my hands?

In nights, silent nights like tonight,

My hands feel cold and empty.

A rare and impressive beauty,

For centuries will last.

While my hands, reflect

That the past has passed.

Her long elegant legs,

Lingering lost in my mind.

Oh, how I long for

Her and the past.

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