Internal desire so hidden, became
A fierce flickering, fluctuating flame,
Cold to the touch, heightened by appetite,
A lingering moment, to wince and bite.
As nymph Salmacis, with self agency,
With muse of Pothos, fused, in mind, body.
A new conception, the image lurking,
Within the obscured, a clandestine thing.
Imagined pleasures, gratification
Wisps, contrary to actuality,
Abrasive to the mind and thin membrane.
Yet still, no satisfaction can compare
To that other which I now forthwith bare.
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