On twilight’s veranda with a Pontellier glass
a naked shroud in silhouette…La fée verte.
Dripping a shadow of lace, slipping confession
off the shoulder, until the fire of obsession
spills debauchery, clinging to your curves,
with whispers, leaving me breathless, into
a body of one. On twilight’s veranda, with
cool water over crystal. Igniting, La fée verte.
Rated for Teens(13+)
Twilight’s Veranda
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