Her obsidian tresses cascade over
white shoulders
as smooth as marble.
Deceptively fragile beauty
immortalized in gleaming ivory flesh,
as luminous as the clear autumn moon.
Her whole face is poetry;
delicate arches jewel her brow,
mounted above grey-green eyes
as deep,
as expansive
as the rolling seas.
Oh, and those lips!
Ruby satin pillows upon the
lustrous surface of her face,
a hint of a smile dancing
hand in hand
with her sullen pout.
The curves of her shoulders and neck,
gleaming mother of pear skin
breath-takingly
beautifully
exposed,
naked;
a faint rose blossoms in her cheek
as her full bosom rises
with an intake of breath
and you are lost in her,
Drowning.
Fading;
Drifting away into a deep slumber,
nuzzling in the cradle of her throat,
the feel of silk, lace
and cool, milky skin
the last sensations before death.
G. L. Stewart