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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Sunday
Sunday morning,
Awake too early;
The dawn fills the room slowly,
Rising over her naked hip
Revealing a rich country
Of milk and honey;
She coyly whispers,
‘Hungry?’
Awake too early;
The dawn fills the room slowly,
Rising over her naked hip
Revealing a rich country
Of milk and honey;
She coyly whispers,
‘Hungry?’
Published 31st Jul 2022
| Edited 1st Aug 2022
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