Wearing a crown of tangerine thorns.
Dances as the day she was born.
Naked.
Clothed only in pure fresh air.
Falling hair and skin so fair.
Vibrating ******* open to guests.
Sate all hungry children.
With the gods ambrosia.
A child of wondrous starlight.
Images locked all out of sight.
It is the time of afternoon.
Sips passion from a silvery spoon.
Lustre sparkles in her eyes.
Turns her back and slowly cries.
Tears trickle down her *******.
Aged now so are redundant.
Children unfurled wings of gold.
Flown away.
She's grown old.
Older than she was was before.
Quality old gold.
(c)LIVVI