She hides waterfalls
behind her eyes
The taste of oasis
between her lips
Her ******* are a valley
of delights
Sun caressed cliffs
form her thighs
The wide skies hang
beneath her brow
southern cotton fields
clothe her golden soft skin
while oceans east swirl
at her curls and curving hips
the harvests ripe upon her lips
and if one asks me, “who is she?”
I reply,
“She’s my world, can’t you see…”