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I have Lost Myself - Peter Malakoff
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I HAVE LOST MYSELF . . .
I HAVE BECOME YOU

 

In the tresses of your hair

 

 

I am bound to you always

 

 

     I have no hope for release

 

 

In the pools of your eyes

 

 

I am drowned and die happily

 

 

  Celebrating my fate

 

 

Your face ensnares my mind

 

 

and

 

 

by your slender neck

 

 

 I am broken

 

 

Your breasts are miracles and in awe

 

 

   They open my palms to praising

 

 

Where your waist draws in all things

 

 

I am trapped

 

 

And then

 

 

Flourish again in the grand sail of your hips

 

 

inhaling and soaring with a luscious pride

 

 

I am baptized by the sacred swelling of your abundant backside

 

 

That rounds and turns like an odalisque

 

 

A full moon of blessing

 

 

 

And in your quiet place there are secrets

 

 

that I wish to learn

 

 

 And know I never will

 

 

The two rivers of your thighs flow down

 

 

Turning tenderly towards each other

 

 

      Sweetly they stream to the pools of your knees

 

 

Where they gather

 

 

       and pour out again into the calm lakes of your

 

 

shy calves

 

 

and

 

 

down into the conundrumed cornerstones

 

 

of  

 

                                                                            

your feet

 

 

From the sky of your appearance

 

 

To the depths of adoration

 

 

I have fallen

 

 

I have lost myself

 

 

I have become you

 

 

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