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From a Narcissist
I am undeniably in love with myself
As a flower loves a bee
I worship the very ground I walk on and
Could stare into my dreadfully beautiful eyes for eternity
My skin is porcelain and fair, and I long to run my fingers
Across it and ever so gently touch
The small of my back, before leaning in to…
Whisper upon the nook of my neck, the true toxicity of desire
My fingers I dream to embrace them, the very
Essence of slenderness and silk, and bring
Them to my lips, where I can gently caress the very
Tip of my knuckle, and feel a shiver of excitement consume the air
I wish to take myself to a marvelous scenery and sit
And watch the ashen skies turn from light
To somber, all whilst knowing the only thing better than
The setting sun, is myself
Alas, no man will ever please me, as well
As I do, for I am the only love and passion to have had
And to have held closely for all of my life, and I plan
To only make love to myself within in the sheets, for the rest of this life
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