Red streaks start to creep into the room
As dawn begins, and the sun is on the rise.
And I touch her back: brown, I know, though I can't see it, and smooth as a baby's bottom, as they say.
Her eyes, round and brown. He eyes (so disarming) that peer into my soul.
All is quiet, except we making love. The sun continues to rise
And I could swear I hear the earth singing
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