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I love Leda and the Swan and I just read a poem about monkeys taking over. Here are both.
I was reading this last night too, I remember it was the first real poem I knew and loved
To a skylarks quite nice.
Saucy. I got distracted by the use of thighs twice in quick succession.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs
Even if it does basically mean; how can I stop this giant swan from raping me