I wait upon your every word
like bookies watch the scores,
and in reply I try my best
to let you know I’m yours.

The sound of lust is but white noise
against the song of love.
Though prurient waves try sink our hearts,
your words will rise above.

You hang below where angel’s dwell,
a necklace for their gowns.
But none will touch your jewel as long
as feet can’t leave the ground.


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