Flushed skin
when the charm uplifts
when she touches new spark
of naivety
The caress of triviality
is not something she raves about
or tracing the DNA of her passions
she doesn't care for the lyrics or the music
she unravels the Deep trance of her passion
the drunkard lover
the curious seducer
she does not fight back her emotions
or rawness of a deep touch
she translates the language of
trespassing in her intimate monologues
as her own self
she is pristine
out of the fresh sunshine, into the wild
her walk, her inconsistent chivalry
her demands, her concupiscence
it is not she
but the verve
I desire her
as she wants me to
femme passionnée
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