She drifts lusciously ---
eyes tracing a window filled with orange stars
where rows of flowers bend into a dance,
summer reflects who i am through midnight hours
relishing the deep flavor of moon.
In the stillness of dusk
when all boughs turn to virtues and sins
deepening the fragrance of airbrushed sky,
she will find her own moment on a caravan
of roses in the shade---
while the breeze climbs on her pores
stirring the glow of fireflies blazed.
Oh how she blooms more daring
than mist of spring, flitting like a woman
whose spirit enters inside my navel;
much like the glaze she was born from,
summer raises her tanned arms... fluid, raw, loving;
then, to explode into an awakened flight
shading the contours of July's bright pastels,
her feverish way of tasting her own moment
i see myself in her spontaneous flow
as she drifts lusciously.
Self-Portrait Contest Of Frank Herrera
by nette onclaud