her pretty bows

pretty bows are not just decoration
that is left to the slice of sunrise
which is the smile on your face
my tongue has untied
many a knot
and it waits
for the ochre velvet
of the one that binds
both your raging heart
and your ample waist
i know the friction and the burn
such ribbons have
and the gift they bind
will not go to waste.

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