Aubade

My lips are the sweetest when the rooster crows.

I begin drinking hot tea with Honey, at my hip,

A mellow pair usually enjoyed head tilted. Eyes closed

savoring this bliss often polluted with censorship.


I begin drinking hot tea with honey at my hip.

Produce waits to be served over rhythm and yawns.

Savoring this bliss often polluted with censorship.

A shadow bands our sapphic flowers facing dawn.


Produce waits to be served over rhythm and yawns.

Fleeting seconds captured by each crunch of toast;

A shadow bands our sapphic flowers facing dawn.

Wild is the Wind that carries this love to the utmost.


Fleeting seconds captured by each crunch of toast

A mellow pair usually enjoyed head tilted, eyes closed.

Wild is the Wind that carries this love to the utmost.

My lips are the sweetest when the rooster crows

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