Short Novella Poems

Eyes move across her page,
I have read her before,
memorized her mind.

The book on her lap
is a tragedy.
Her lips move, as I approach,
as if she is reading a sudden thought.

Are we still writing a thriller,
or is this mutual recognition,
a romantic interlude,

a magnetic, moment,
an impulsive flame of truth,
that flares between the covers
of a fictional novel....

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her opulent presence
is beautifully crafted on the night of the mind
her tattooed form elegantly painted sensitively
but oh so erotically
lip rings and candy necklace feast for the lusts
but she knows your eyes are on the plunging neckline
she is a deeply written romance novella
she is a poem of darker daylight
longing within her good girl image
to be as bad as bad girl can be
beautifully written in that smile
written in the sunshine of the opulent soul...

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