Sunshine brown eyes rise over sand dune cheeks
arabian night hair
Flickering light, palm scent
Her body is a poem
The end of one perfect line gently handed to another
My eyes move effortlessly
pulled
moving over her
as my hands would,
but not stopping to bite
Not stopping as I would at every dimble, rise, and valley
Not as my tounge
slow over her as peach skin
i read her like a poem in the dark
A storm is coming. Rise wave. Rise.
