A thousand faces with glistening eyes,
They shine like stars in desert skies.
Rivers of hair, colors that glow & swirl
Each unique, flowing like a finger whorl.
Candles make the shadows swell,
Soft typography of curves and skin
History of lovers lost in chateaux's of sin.
But that decadent Italian & record in paint
On red velvet, studio apartment
Found a vision with the scent of lust,
She's hard to find,
A ripe and sensual, Modigliani woman.
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