sage

Her thin dress lay on her naked, hope’s
candle kindle a wantonness showing how
love looks good on a woman.

Her eyes make the air pulse, dark like magnets
draw him in, engraving anxiety older than
memory.

Her flesh knows the late season, tho’ a lusty
thigh still keeps vigil’s desire, a glee of prowess
hunting a prosperous afternoon.

He poses in a crazy man’s shadow, a madness
sculpted in lust, torch held high he walks her
body like a jaunty tightrope.

He strokes her like a fine stone, her lips begging
him to mark her where it won’t wear off, so he’ll
find his way back to her again.

©

PaintedDiary

Dear Sage,

This is some kind of poem!!! Please do share your inspiration for this piece!! Your style is very unique as well. I noticed you have a brilliant way of giving your audience the whole package in a short version or long version. That is masterful. I am in love with your poetry, and am in awe of you. Beautifully written Sage, beautiful!!!!! Thank you for sharing!!

~*Painted*~