She lies unclothed, asleep at dawn’s first light,
Her skin aglow, a summer’s warm embrace.
Between two hills, a sparrow’s fleeting flight,
A whispered secret, hidden in that space.
A garden lush, untamed, where beauty grows,
Its solitude, a treasure softly kept.
Her inner thighs, where velvet’s gentleness flows,
Like grooves on records where her movements slept.
The curve of her, a dancer’s arm in air,
A peach’s sweetness, yielding, lush, and deep.
Her petals bloom, a rose beyond compare,
Within, the heart of the bloom it keeps.
The inguinal fold, a butterfly’s plume,
A feather’s mark on clay, a fragile trace.
And yet, too beautiful for me, she’ll drift away,
Yet in my heart, her beauty’s here to stay.
Her splendor burns, a flame I fail to hold,
In dreams, her folds forever I behold.
