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Bearskin
In love and relieved of clothing
We lie on the bearskin by the fire
Perspiration evolving beads
Drenched in the fair sin of desire
As passionate crusaders we are storming
Heaven’s gates that afford no resistance
All our senses are sharp and enamored
‘Bolero’ plays in the distance
As the music reaches crescendo
We are comets that an angel remembers
Then return to the sensuous bearskin
And we glow in the timorous embers
We’ll record our dalliance on parchment
In sonnets that will sparkle and play
If the Muse is shy and is hesitant
We will smile and will meet her half-way
“Bolero” Maurice Ravel
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