the tunic slid down off her
          supple *******, the milk
and honey of my hungry eyes, slow flutter-
          -by like butterfly kisses,
eyelashes on my heart's now fevered skin,
          for skin, yea, all i'd give,
to touch smooth porcelain-like
          vase, or marble Venus, statue-
-esque I stand, attentive now she covers-
          -up, i too take cover, diverting
eyes, in opposite directions carrying
          the weight of just one moment

(C)2012, Christos Rigakos