Eve
Her body t’is my home,
upon white satin i lay.
She stitches me together,
with warmth and loving gay.
Gazing within her eyes,
reflections of forests and trees.
Fair tressles flowing fancy,
a smile that gives such tease.
And kind words she prays,
gentle, in a whisper.
On these lips i wait,
trembling but to kiss her.
May she never cleanse her cheek,
nor sadness upon her breast.
But love until that day,
held in her last caress.
Copyright © Kristov Dubois | Year Posted 2012
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