She stands in beams of light
Always posing on the stage of my mind
Singing like a mockingbird
Till her heart's content
I want to be her microphone
I want to project her to the far corners
Of every room until everyone
Sees what beauty she holds
Her eyes are warmth and they shine
For me; only me
And her smile is painted by gods
To show me what heaven looks like
Her body is manufactured by dreams
For it was created solely for me
It's curves astounding
And when she moves I hold my breath
Be my only memory
Be my dying breath
As long as you promise
To be mine.
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