The legends won't tell of Arthur when he fell in love when he swooned for the arm that held Excalibur extended out to him how he did a double take and stuttered and gawked at the simple beauty of her flawless freckled skin.
And in this moment I behold the Lady of the Lake her divine completeness: holy and whole. Elegant sloping shoulders a regal neckline pleading to be united with loving lips in an everlasting caress. Water droplets dripping from her form-- reluctant, wishing they could reverse the laws of nature fall up from the surface to bead and cling to skin again-- desiring to be as close as we as she entrances me with emerald eyes rivers of red hair enchanting lips that know no equal.
She's won me over and she drags me under below the water beneath the lapping waves. The ripples on the surface echo my farewell to the world.
Not entirely sure what birthed this. I mean sure, I have a redhead thing. But the Arthurian element is something I don't often contemplate. The musings of a tired mind, I guess.