A mind made with shelves, adorned in the books
That read the past with much awareness,
And a heart that recedes with the tide
Of a bloody sea.
No fault could ever welcome itself
Into your open arms,
For you possess a form,
That outdoes even the sea with its many currents,
And many curves,
From cresting waves.
I am in love with a woman I have envisioned
To be my partner in life.
Her form, though, is a sight of great admiration,
With beauty to each mark,
And with a belly that exhales the breath to sing,
Resonating as the startled lark.
With tresses that rain to shoulders and neck,
And then to a pair of snowy legs,
That seem to stand, as the statue does,
Upon its base.
A form, and also a face,
Beauty is the notion, I have come to know,
By all your radiance, upon skin so immaculate in hue,
And desirous, as something I never knew.
For you have eyes that wander the extent of that form,
For seduction’s sake.
My eyes, as well, see the world over,
But never the sea,
Beautiful, in everywhere I have seen,
And marvelous, in white skin that bleeds the sheen.