Venus: Figment of My Dreams
Cold, placid, chiseled marble striding a hollowed cone
My fingers, as bristling brush, swab finished surface
Lifeless mold with a bright, animated plaster glows
O'er seamless lines, into silted grooves felt tips roll
A mysterious script unscrolls, tingling fingers to prime
My tracing digits her supple, graceful texture unseals
Sketching, my throbbing pulse her graded essence peels
The features of her, soft, delicate face unfold
Through her engraved eyes, a sentient strain flows
Taut ears sift wind--warm vibrating touches on cold cheeks
Tightly-coiffed locks, as tentacles, around my tendrils wrap
Just as my hands the features of her bass relief grasp
The visceral sculpture from my slumbering mind seeps
Once more, a hollow, still life vision clouds my dreams
Only the dry, stale plaster to my jaded eyes streams
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