That lonely hair.
Anchored on the shore of your sex.
Owner and lord of the shore.
Include me in time
managed to save himself from the blade.
That lonely hair.
Kind lattice.
Host of fragrant promises.
(Umm! Reminds me of the smell of conch shells
and the scent of blossoming nymphs
with shapes of happy butterflies).
That lonely hair.
Navigator in the floods of your flows.
Bishop of your effluvia.
Black ranger in witches' coven.
That lonely hair.
In the foothills,
vigilant eunuch.
Hero of daring struggle.
Open mouth of velvet mourning.
That lonely hair.
Saves oils from hidden essences.
Eternal Witness,
Erect knight on your smooth promontory.
Faithful sentinel of your burning grotto.
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