From far
Still I feel drunk
Of dream of last night;
Was among Indians,
Buffalo sat with us.
She was there, so was I;
Both aloof, sort of shy!
Finally, me and her;
Just us two, me and her.
Had driven too far
With a heart that throbbed!
Worried to uncover
What bothered my brain:
“I need you my dear…”
Mesmerised, powerless
Could not say, nor spell
Romance of loving her.
Like a rock, sat silent
Possibly had sixth sense
With great deep vision;
Read hidden and unsaid.
All happened in the night
Her back filled my front;
Held breasts in hand cups
And her hair floated,
Pitch black, nights’ skies…
Still I am drunk
With dream of last night
When having Lynetta,
The chief of Indians;
Next to me, angel-like.
Is dream same as sword?
Does it have two edges?
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