At the peak of highest ecstasy,
so prettily pleased with herself,
she sinks beneath the surface sea,
gripping tight, like a book from a shelf,
her silver mirror, the perfect thing
to admire her perfect form.
Her virginal gown rises in angel's wings.
Her face beams beauty's eternal norm.
How long can she contemplate
herself before taking a breath?
Absorbed by her image, she satiates,
floating gently upward, away from death.