Literature
'The Beauty' (Poem 8)
'You're beautiful, you know.'
You blush and stroke my shoulder,
So shy, you hide your eyes away,
And never let me see you change.
I catch a glimpse, your stomach winks at me through folded cotton.
I am floored. I think, behind my eyes, Greek sculptors must have thought of this.
You face away, I act as cutlery,
Following your curves with mine.
Your hair cascades down your neck,
Your shoulder blade... divine.
Your kisses, more and more frequent,
With more intent,
(I love it when they catch me by surprise.)
I'm speechless as I open my eyes,
And giggle at my shyness.
'You're beautiful, you know.'
She doesn't know, but I'll make he