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Qetesh Calls for Her Love

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“Oh, for a candle I could light, to draw you closer

Oh, for a poppet made like you

With your own lovely body, sewn again with cloth

With your dark all-seeing eyes

With your c**k standing proud, and balls sweetly rounded,

Remade in wax or clay.

Oh, for a herb to place upon my tongue

To bring your tongue to mine…..

Oh, for a potion I could drink

Or slip to you, unseen,

At some state dinner party laid on for you.

Oh, for your nail parings….

Oh, for your hair….

Stirred in a brew, or

Baked in a honey cake….

I would make a stew, a soup, or witches broth

To bring your lovely thighs to mine.

I would search the world for rare meats, and sweet treats

To lure you here to me..

I would enter your blood and warm your veins

I would enter your eyes like laser beams

Then enter your palms like the Holy Spirit causing stigmata

To a sex-starved saint.

Oh, my love

I would spell you ‘evoL’ if mere anagrams

Would bring you near to me.

Hear me!

Come to me!

Love me!

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