Her voice wraps my body in cool recognition
That Venus incarnate has addressed my meager form
Slowly, she crosses her legs, caramel over cream
Little shafts of ivory light gleam through lips
Sweet and thin, like a peach slice.
She squints at her book
Two gentle whispers of hair
Furrow over fine black feathers
That cradle the most heartbreaking orbs
I have ever seen:
Drops of hazel green
In a snow-white sea.
Her jaw tenses, carved out of marble
And her small, spidery fingers
Run through autumn hair.
She is beauty, full and free
And she spoke to me.
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