Lips ablaze,
Eyes wide.
She was hers, only hers.
As if gentle strokes
By a perfectly constructed brush
had painted her very being.
Her lips were pouted,
Pink
And pretty.
Her skin a milky white
Without a trace of flaw.
Her eyes, like the night sky
Shined at her
With a mix of purity and curiosity.
Pant like breaths made their way out.
She could feel her love

In her mind,
She was painted in a tub
Filled with crystal clear water,
dead roses afloat.
The roses would encircle her body, complimenting
Every curve
Every edge
To then rest
in her dark hair.
She looks so beautiful resting
peacefully
As the fluttering of her eyelash
comes to a halt.

n.b.