To the name

Shy stolen glances

Hesitant smiles uncertain moves

The traditional wrestling the primal

Into conformance

Thousands of years of heritage

Behind those almond eyes

Arched dark eyebrows

Waiting to be kissed

To be felt with trembling fingers

Forbidden fruit..yet achingly within reach

Worried shoulders holding steadfastly

On to strong tired arms

A calmness that lulls all attempts

To look away

Into submission

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