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Love is Tilting Windmills
by Louis Slee

What words of love
describe the inner glow
ignite sensual feelings
with joy no mind can know?

What makes the longing flow,
an ache within the breast,
desire to be the other,
a yearning without rest?

What name or state
explains skin annealing,
a rush that won't abate
the mind's ardent reeling?

Love is tilting windmills
upon the plains of reason.
Love is lilting skin thrills
that melt the frigid season.

 


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