Who Knew (6) parts one, two and three
The taste of night language,
the smell of her words,
spell out love.
Shadows thrown from a pale waxy moon,
the way faces merge into dreams behind the eyes.
Standing in the cool late night,
inhaling her perfume again and again.
He dreams about her from his attic bed,
her milky skin, soft blush,
red lips parting.
Love notes and lines from old poets
on folded paper, nailed to his heart and memorised.
He swung her up in his arms
and promised the earth,
she kissed with her tongue,
he branded her warm neck.
She offered herself for a finger of gold,
he told her his prospects and whispered false vows.
This is where the dream became reality.
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