To PRC
The golden fingers of the Sun
move slowly, hesitantly
across the landscape undulating
across morning, touching
its curves, its hollows,
its smooth, firm limbs,
drowsy after the darkling
hours of the night, the naked
body of the land, your
craved for wonders restored
to my lusting eyes, so
deeply have you imprinted
yourself into my being.
09.09.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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