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Nicholas Gordon

Jacklyne has shoulder-length dark hair,
A dimple on each cheek, hazel eyes,
Come hither in her smile and in her walk,
Kisses poised like jaguars in her talk,
Licentiousness stark naked in her sighs.
Yet nights of tenderness for her are rare.
No man has faith that she could really care,
Even as she strips off her disguise.

Copyright by Nicholas Gordon

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