The morning light was dark and my soul shivered when I woke. I spent the day reckoning with my own absence from life. I said not even a prayer.
Reaching out into the night smog, I sensed the terror of more rain and fog. The feelings of sheer agony and fear. But do not fear, I tell myself, as Beauty is always close to here:
Whereupon the senses can be set on fire, and tears wept, before I cry out with a new sense of Joy.
I tell of her naturalness;
Of the feeling gifted to her breasts,
Of the charming smile that dawns in the night,
Of the morning tide, and her sweet neck,
A charming scent.
I tell of her elegance;
Of the fearlessness devoted to being,
Of the genius that wakes in her personality,
Of the physicality, and her countenance,
A rhythmic beauty.
I tell of her musicality;
Like a rainbow she spoke, excitably,
The many colours of the day in harmony,
Like a ray of sunshine, parting rain and cloud,
A pasture sublime.
I tell of her language;
Like the sound of robins, springtime,
The animals whisper and sweetly graze,
Like a child who sings lullabies,
A tender voice.