On Tiptoe
A LONG the corridor I heard
Her naked feet come like a bird:
Through hush and darkness far and near
The rustle of her skirts grew clear.
The door creaked open, closed again:
Her breath fell on my face, and then
Her lips closed on my lips' delight,
Silently in the silent night.
Her naked feet come like a bird:
Through hush and darkness far and near
The rustle of her skirts grew clear.
The door creaked open, closed again:
Her breath fell on my face, and then
Her lips closed on my lips' delight,
Silently in the silent night.
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