(1595–1664)
As if to lift my babe-in-arms,
my brazen lover touched my breast
with just a fingertip.
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When I found her in the bathing pool,
my footstep startled her—she crouched
to hide her breasts and glanced about.
Seeing no one else, her smile was shy.
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All day she studies her new
love-bite in the mirror,
examining, covering,
then revealing it again.
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Loveliness beyond words,
this woman dressed
in a sari to match her skin,
those beautiful breasts
concealed and yet exposed.
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