Roses

Est-que tu veux être avec moi,
oh ballerine dès mes rêves?
Your black dress sways across the floor,
and draws my eyes to your pale skin.

Aujourd’hui je désirez
l’adore de la une fille,
whose black gown lulls throughout the hall,
and lures my eyes to lust her skin
—trap me in this web you weave.

(C) Marie Meyers, 2013

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