Thursday, December 21, 2006

the pale of your breasts

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A modern classic he wrote to his muse, Brigit. I can say no more.

the pale of your breasts

like porcelain, crafted by the potter goddess, Freya,
who pours out our hearts into the shells she shapes.
I was bold to dare to touch them, bold to dare to take
them in my hands and kiss them with all the honest ardor
I could summon to convince you of my fealty and love.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

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    Explaining the Tags

    You will note, gentle reader, that all works under this blog now display "tags" to help classify and assign the works for your review and enjoyment.

    These largely fall into 4 categories:

    Year of writing, e.g. "1999"
    Book published in, e.g. "from an unexpected quarter"
    Inspiring muse, e.g. "Aubergine"
    Genre, e.g. "erotica"

    We are still in the process of cleaning up the tags, so please bear with us. Yes, some muses are classified under more than one tag, some poems appear in more than one book, or not yet in any volume, and some years are...hazy.
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