Foxy
A nose to touch mine,
so near in what Arctic natives
call an Eskimo kiss,
whose faces are covered
to prevent a frozen departure
from this life.
Eyes so blue I can lap
from a clear refreshing stream
and taste a part of the life
promised in their native stories:
Soul deep.
Ears alert to all sounds,
including the softest whispers
of desire leaping
in the dark of night like frogs
coming to be my dinner.
A face of elegant expression,
peering down with soul-filled
beauty, stronger, beyond all other,
staring with intensity far out in
an unknown world.
Copyright © Alaska Brant | Year Posted 2015
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