Form
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There is much to adore of a form so raw with flesh. She shows bravery by walking to a place where she may admire her form. As I peer through this window to see her, I may watch the breasts move upwards, as she steers such a form. I may see her cheeks with redness
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Beloved, beloved, with all my surrendering,I have suffered in my strength,To know not what I beheld,And it was only you, the simplest thing to show,How life could be the same,Simple and so very short. Your eyes are the glaciers of the north,And your lips are the raw swipes of paintOn the immaculate canvas. Your form
Modern Romanticism 