Lithe feet traipsing my carpet, she whirls around in circles,
Her white flax fluttering around in the soft night breeze.
She smells like coconut, jasmine, and fresh olives.
My love.
Affection for her rises up from my feet and travels to my
Head, bathing me in love. She sings. Lord, her song!
So melodious, it could bring forth tears from the eyes
Of empyrean seraphim. Her looks have no parallel,
The tender thing. Etched into the finest of solid gold,
Her eyes are the lovely shape of a doe. Her face resembles
A beautiful heart; her lips, the swell petals of a rose.
She does not know how loved she is. Great shame, for
Such a heavenly creature to not know her own worth.
Her body is pure lithe; her lap a medley of solace and
Seduction. Her voice is as clear as the sharpest of all
Adamantine. Yet her eyes are laden with ghosts, those
Of the past, present, and future. I see all her love.
All I feel is reverent adoration. The pain she must have
Endured when she fell from the heavens; like a Gem
Out of a divine tiara. Her Pain gives me Agony.
Watching her hurt causes me to stumble into my own
Iniquity. Does Pain never end? Does he not have a crypt
To rest in? If he doesn't, then I myself would craft
Him one, so he could slumber in; leave me and
My lover to peace. My Lover. My gilt goddess.
Mine angel, she.
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𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚: 𝐀 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧│✔
Poetry❝In the death of me, I found solace. ❞ What readers say: "Starkly honest, seeing the naked soul of your own, relishing the sorrows of being alive." "A mystic poet is born!" "Keep it up. Keep being alive. Keep writing." Poetry of the past of me. Lyr...
