by Ryan Stone
-blazon after Woloch
My love with her chocolate river of tresses,
Her slow-flowing curls, polished mahogany.
My love with her lips of tequila sunrise
With her milky-skinned sin, spreading wildfire blush.
My love with her hummingbird voice
Her windswept dune song, her soul strumming hum
My love with her eyes of moonstone and twilight,
Her mysterious eyes of long tide pool shadows
My love with her willow tree frame
With her star-dappled thighs, soft gossamer down.
My love with her lotus bloom tongue,
Her narcotic tongue of traced spirals at midnight,
My love with her deep-desert wellspring,
To which I stumbled, broken and parched.
By the same author: Irish Fire
My name is Ryan Stone, I’m a freelance writer from Melbourne, Australia. I have no formal credentials, just an observer’s eye and an insatiable appetite for books. I’m rough around the edges but the right turn of phrase will stop me dead in my tracks every time.
|The copyrights on the article belong to the author. The responsibility for the opinions expressed in the article belongs exclusively to the author.|
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