The thought of your pious touch flames this body,
My fingers run across my own body
And I feel it is you who stroked this fiery plain.
This new passion brings to life my body,
As though it was a corpse till now.
This life is that of a flower,
Caressed by the first dew drop.
These tresses tickle me,
As if at your service.
My lips utter something unknowingly,
As if they are talking to you.
My heart contracts with love for you,
And my flesh shrinks to bloom at your touch.
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