Beauty’s  paradox lies in her mystery,
Her landscape changes form,
With life’s seasons.
What wondrous shapes she takes,
Lying on her side,
He traces with gentle fingers…
From softness falling at the nape,
Across shoulder’s sinew and bone,
Down to delicate decadent bosom,
He lingers in the mountains then he…
Rests his hand in waist’s valley,
He could slumber with her,
Solace found from life’s battle,
His hand caresses her hip,
He pulls her closer towards him,
To lose himself in her softness.


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