They step into range
Of the curl of her lashes
And feel lashes against
Their fragile chest.
They whisper
"Be still, my heart"
As it races against them,
Begging their eyes to
Steal another glance
At the soft curls
About her crown.
The light and reddish
Brown of her waves
Makes makes their
Throat constrict in
A complete lack of
Air or that's how it feels.
She doesn't have to move
Her soft honey sweet
Lips to entrance them
In any way she only
Has to flash those
Dazzling, straight teeth
And they might as well
Be swallowed by her entirely.
They can't bear to look into
Her deep brown doe eyes
For the warmth there might
Simmer them to a boil and
So they avert their eyes from
Her blinding light.
She's a beaut for sure and
It overwhelms them down
To their very core.
YOU ARE READING
Strawberry Sunsets & Her
Poetrya collection of love poems for her about her, about us.
