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Wednesday, 2 May 2018

Diary of a Poet 7

The mysterious ink well of words that excel
Many stories does her spilled ink tell 
Spread across pages that are a mixture of colors
Some of the stories more erotic than others
A rainbow of colors does her ink well hold 
Ink pleading and begging just to be scrolled
The ink of passion, pain and fantasy
Ink made of things you see only in your dreams
Madam Climax inscribes ink on all different levels
Some of it into stone in which her ink quill bevels
Left there carved into hearts and minds
A manuscript of her soul imprinted till the end of time
Her fingers stained with the ink of emotion
Never once has she quivered in her motion
Ink fingerprints left on the side of the page
A fingerprint as a signature instead of her name 

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