Tethered in a silky red silhouette
Lashes dipped in coal with whisps of blue.
Blood streaked lips, they call to you.
The curve of her flesh, the molten heat,
The unveiled skin provocative still.
The slender skin, peeking through the rip, calls to your desire.
I watch her, mesmerized.
The way her dusky nail lazily grazes the tip where earlier was her lip,
Imprinting and staining, marking it.
A lose curl, a tendril, auburn in nature, is marred by the specks of ash,
Shimmering ever so slightly, the faintest hair,
the thin, lone strand.
My hands move, dipping in and tasting,
Between white plains and dusky tips,
The submerging valley.
My woman, I call to you, in my mind.
My woman for the hour, maybe the night
Tomorrow it'll be the same,
the velvet, the plush of just another name.
