But the songs made
were never always about her.
It is true
that you may be reminded:
of her angelic voice;
of her summer-day lips;
of her ethereal eyes;
of her jovial attitude;
of her tiny, yet gentle hands;
of her beautiful, yet strong shoulders;
of her silky hair, hued like night;
of her ears, aligned so perfectly;
of her bosom;
of her curves;
of her thighs;
of her feet;
and everything else—
so trivial to others,
but to you will always be
of great concern.
Yes, you are elated in eros.
Or am I wrong,
and this love you call
is agape?
But in all eternity,
it is you that gave things meaning.
And right now,
every good thing, every wonder,
can be summed in one word:
her.
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