Chronicles of the Clubs
Then love would blaze through us within a second—
just time enough to scan silhouette,
fête blonde or not, the homage honed on fecund
frame, face, as the allure was whet.
Insight distilled through years of twilit blights,
till left in homes
beyond our bygone nights.
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L3: "fete" > "fête"; "chorus" > "homage"
L5: "Foresight" > "insight"
L6: "held" > "left"
L7: "yesterday's" > "our bygone"