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Within Grandma's holy sanctum resided an altar before which I was in awe, would stand tip toe in worship adoring the lines of her ornate hand held ivory mirror and silver hair brush; hands not folded in prayer
Clothing could never warrant me dressed For I am naked without you, my Jewels Gold! your chains' yellow hue draped on my chest Liken the skin beneath them beautiful My rings are not just simple silver bands
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