Poem By Iara Aimer

Dominicus, thou art the worshiped day, methinks sanctified by courtesans feal. Thy death is the hue of shame, for thou art shade before my beauty, my lordly triumph is to sight thee vanish and my lips welded with the glance godlike and blissful of the pool it saturated. The cohort of luminary and celestial bodies enkindles the sky, fiery, merely to catch sight of my opalescent phantom. Nor scarce nor rare those lingering, for my visage remains unsurpassable. Glint in fortunate mediocre waters, thou art the fairest I set eyes upon, my swain dearest, thou art Narcissus.I caress thee and my exalted fingers tremble to meet thy skin but the water's touch responds.Thou art my end, my lovely, the death among the arms of sheerest ecstasy.

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