After the party laughter, <br />Her lips are still red <br />As she walks beneath <br />The soft glow of moonlight. <br /> <br />Lasciviously, she smiles at me <br />Knowing I already adore her <br />Even more than my wounded eyes <br />Could ever reveal <br />Gazing upon her <br />Like a pious monk <br />Upon a sacred icon. <br /> <br />Her thin summer dress <br />Tenderly breaks my heart, <br />But this is the type of suffering <br />In which I desire to linger.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/thin-summer-dress/
