Darling, keep poise –
they are absent control.
your taut curves
and sleek, liquid length
of glinting darkness –
let them stare.
I, with these fine-arced malars
and narrow eyes,
strolling aside your hip
down the cream-crystalled coast.
Surely they didn’t dream such permutation –
how would God judge this aberration?
See the math in their faces?
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