You are a star shining crimson-gold,
bold beyond belief, never giving in to grief,
you peaked and kept on growing,
showing Lovingkindess because it was bred in your twinkling.

You are rope-bridge dangling between woman and man,
can-can choral calamity on casanova’s hopefullness,
bliss resounding in a wicked laugh,
a math that added to those who loved you’s joy.

You are hands on shoulders, backs, and thighs,
a prize that twinkles Vegas’ eye,
lovely wanton woman, never shy,
beauty never meant to be a bride;
you marry life to leisure, working hard for bliss synonymous with your name,
fame for your ferocious ways,
the deep, mysterious praise of your gaze,
and you live yet in hearts and minds,
lives you’ve touched by your glamor,
enamored in the essence of your joyous breath –
you shall live beyond this little death.

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