August
Ah, sun-gold hair that so adorns
A face to launch a thousand ships to war,
Gorgeous eyes of the warmest cerulean,--
These, reasons enough to love thee, but here are more:
Thy sweetish lips are the very nectar of the gods,
The memory of their flavor alone suffices to impassion.
Thy curving hips, thy thighs, thy smooth skin,--
Never has any woman attracted me in such a fashion.
Thy name is the sweetest melody to me,
And thy name is the prayer on which I sleep.
Thy voice, thy laughter, a reaffirmation of faith,
Thy embrace the purest hope when the dark is too deep.
August 23, 2001
Created 08/23/01 / Last modified 08/23/01 by
Giovanni Dania
Copyright (c) 2001 by
Oh My God I'm Bleeding Ventures