these pale lips that so
swiftly rob me of my strength
these honey sweet lips
from which such soft words like butterfly logic
do so entangle me
and tie such aching around my very soul
with such a tight gentleness
these pale lips
that i reach over and with one finger
drawn slowly across them
i do shudder from head to toe with desires
these blue eyes
so adorned with paints
so shadowed behind lock of hair
such deep pools of hunger and light
her dream is a village road she has walked
her entire life
strewn upon its scoured bricks are
the romance notions written in french
because its a beautiful language when spoken softly
her paris clothes discarded in the dream
her skin reflecting moonlight
her lips glisten
as she walks the village road