She lays
propped upon the headboard
while her mind is elsewhere,
gaze far from present.
Curling waves of crumpled sheets
crash against her forever in this instant,
their horizon the pale whites and soft pinks
of humble beauty.
The outline of her breast draws us to a turned back,
allowing us the descent of the ridges and valleys
of supple curves.
As we turn away, we are grounded
by a small earthen plot,
and feel the sinking blues play on our worries
we will never see this scene again.

And still she lays,
body surrounded by simple comforts,
mind engulfed in a world out of sight.