|A translucent blouse of yellow covers her breasts.
Black skirt, sliced from foot to hip.
Discreetly covering from all but imagination.
The imagination provides the words.
To conjure image of this bird.
Five feet ten.
Sparking witchy fingetips.
In black ankle boots.
Makes no demands.
Those she just flatters.
Lest those who wish.
Wishes which, can only be met by magic wand.
Only sleight of hand can convince her.
That love will e’er be worth having again
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