At night I dream like a mad man with an ego noble like a
hero in Tahiti and a lover in France
A junkie in Chicago but nothing at mornings end
Then I dream of the lingering love from a beautiful women
draped in nothing but the glisten of her skin in the sun of mornings break over
the hill
As she turns me with her morning voice subtle sweet raspy
like that of a chronic smoker
I sink into the supple feeling of her bosom and the soft
skin of her back as she meets me in sensuality
Only as lover can
Lighting up mary jane with the morning smoke covering us
Blanket wrapping us up and taking us to the heavens as she
climbs me and the walls
As I wake once more she has left me
I labor and pain over the thought of her that stays with me
like boulder trapping my feet
Unable to move
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