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Her ghostly spirit entice me.

When all alone at my desk

most nights.

With tapers glare

usually after dark

and meadowlarks harp...

the owls hoo in trees.

Whispering leaves.

My mind gathers my thoughts

and I caress the quill about thee.

Splendid knights on galloping steeds

as she wraps her scarf about she.

The ink I scribe like pre-cum hide...

emotions inside excite me.

Damsels in tattered dress,

sweet caress...

I must confess endow me.

Sipping of the grape

it's quite late..

The shadows surround me.

She dances atop my desk

and stares at me so fair...

laying her breasts a'bare.

All I can do is stare.

My quill is failing me

as I bay to slumbering rest.

Her fingers walking across my chest,

bringing dark shadow chills...

ink well spills 

Her ghostly spirit bites me.

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