by Michael Thomas Smith Copyright ©2026 Should the sky unfold, and reveal your Face, Which holds all the shyness of something more erotic -- The smoke from your cigarette a teasing chiffon -- Oh, then might the heavens themselves hide; Your nude eyes Have the nerve to foreshadow a torrent of tears while huddling with each other. Meanwhile, your lashes indecently flutter, with a movement more lustful than a bachata To keep court with some roue or another -- Whoever esp