I sat idly waiting,
watching her through her bedroom window.
She indeed was the one,
and how happy she would be when I told her
she would be my first.
Coming down the steps
and
walking out the door
I watched her still,
anxious for the moment to come
when I would hold her in my arms.
It was snowing out;
the contrast of her dark skin
against
the white snow,
a mere smudge she would have seemed
if not for the golden glow that surrounded her,
it made me to recall
a single chrysanthemum struggling in a field of snow.
I closed my eyes
imagining the taste of her,
wondering if she would have the scent of a flower,
or
if she would smell of fear
when I took her,
sliding myself into her gently
-never brusquely-
but in a way that would supersede even her
if only for a moment.