Why Do Your Lip's Tremble So
In the realm of blindness, behold the sight
Eyes, mouths, bodies, and feet in desperate plea,
Caressed by brushstrokes, an artist's decree,
A gem with facets, dripping only with you, so bright.
With each stroke, layers peel, revealing anew,
A different you, forever altering the scene,
Canvases portraying joy, or madness keen,
Yet always, it's you, basking in Regina's sun, true.
Trembling lips invite, the question lingering, why?
As lips brush against strokes, the paint, desires sprout,
The canvas brims with variations, there's no doubt,
A mirror of respect, to which you try.
It chuckles, amused by its own growth and might,
Witnessing a blemish, so grand in its scope,
The rose drips, blushing with natural hope,
A struggle, the bloom and its flush unite.
Passion ignites the eyes, a flame untamed,
Refusing confinement within mundane frames,
For every woman, a sovereign, she claims,
A queen in her own right, forever acclaimed
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