Flaming June, Frederic Leighton 1895

the flames haven't burnt out; they can be rekindled active embers that lay beneath what is seen fuel and oxygen equals flames just as this form and this aura produce magic though she lays sleeping, she lights the room every aspect of her resonates with life I gaze upon the fabric that drapes across her as she rests nothing that touches her skin can fail to become beautiful also she falls artfully into slumber the very representation of a dream as the shimmers of a thousand sunsets shroud and surround her comfort she finds in her own frame equilibrium: the stillness that breath may or may not disrupt so I dare not breathe for I do not wish to disturb this beauty may she exist forevermore resplendent as evening sun for she transcends what it is to be mortal