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She is more of an Angel than of a Siren…

My lady in yellow melodies is softer than yours!

Love without its bleak bleached and sorrowful hours

She gives me plus her pearly ass for she’s a Zion.


All, I was searching for a made-flesh poem:

A devil told me: “You ought to fly to Aspen.”

Lo’ I voiced: “Yay, amongst stars, bels and els I shalt seize her,

Amongst the second-born fruits of Olympus’ peppers.”


Yester night, she cooked me Nutella pancakes

While I was sipping Indian tea for a night-cap!

We did not corrupt the souls we never had!

—- She lent me her love cake…


And eye, ’twas sweeter than new wine before a thousand naps!

Once blameless I had been and Lucifer tried to rockly delude me

With the portrait of a lady in a red gown,

—- A succubus from the seas…


— Gilles D. Fabien