the wren

Against stirring movements and intensity
She appeared forlorn
Her glistening eyes gaped into the chasm where my sensitivity heightens.
She needed someone else.
That chinese kate moss
She stood up like subdued grace with a shamble
And her mini dress unravelled a tapestry of maroon roses and mint
Sensuous satin crinkled as my imaginary fingers followed the curves
Soft supple baby skin
Like a dream
Her bob nodded
And her drop dead gorgeous legs unfolded downwards itself thereafter
Subsequent skin muscle lines frisked under the crimson shadows against yellow
Tenderness and gentility dawned upon me about her like a waltz
I’m in love.