If loving you is a crime

Flushed with the dawns

Heat and lust,

Blanketed by my

Temporary trust,

Sunday mornings

Lose all time,

As your bed begets

The perfect crime.

Though I try hard

To protest,

I lose all sense

And must confess-

Like Lee Moses,

I’m as guilty as sin,

I just don’t know

Where to begin. 

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