After everything we’ve been through,
a merry band we make,
An avalanche availing all the artificial, arbitrary actualization.
Any novice could see the magic was yours
Awards and accolades are not enough,
Your many marvels are manifest in your kindness.
Pleasing portrait of pleasure impertinent,
Lithe in lurid languishing, licking lips delightfully,
In zephyr breaths that banter amidst slumbering,
Prizing passion over prideful boasting,
Glad of your presence in the lines of this poem.
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