Renaissance Woman

Hyacinth garden

See that Renaissance woman, her hands filled with quince.

Is she decoding her love, her passions, and her loneliness?

Her jealousies and more damage her intoxicating kisses...

I moved immeasurably to the gloom, in her eyes.

I am stuck in the plume, of her supple reply.

Broken skill speaks with such clever scorn.

While all along she conceals that, her heart is forlorn.

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