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Tags: sensual
There is a fine line between love making and war making.

Fingers marched like
so many soldiers
into my homeland.

Assailing and assaulting
and attacking my better sense,
until my walls were breached.
Torn down, burnt down and defeated.
There was no defense against you.

There was nothing left
of resistance
or resilience,
or refusal.

You took paradise
from atop me
from within me.
Your victory flooded my valley and
claimed my kingdom
as yours.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2017 M.M. Glenn. All Rights Reserved

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