Glazed Eyes and Sleepy Skin

She's soft like the powder on which her nose is graced. I'd thought she was a whirlwind in that way. She kept the sweet whiteness for herself and on herself and with herself like a cloud in July. 

She'd dust her cheekbones until a gleam of light could reflect her quiet features. 

She'd look like a fresh laundered sheet hanging on the Summer line on a Sunday. 

She was never bronzed or sparkled or boasted in shine. She wore her downy glow like a badge on her silken armor. 

Oh how I wanted to sleep into her soul like a sedated patient and warm my pillows onto her gentle lips! 

She was a soft morning creeping between the shades of my window. 

She would swathe her cotton-like touch around my neck like a child's reach for safety. 

She was soft like glazed eyes and sleepy skin.

She was soft like pastel walls and the thought of fleeced sheep.

She was soft like home.

Reviews

[.]

-- wow... this is gorgeous poetry... as gorgeous as the subject of this ode...

[Cat]

Thank you for the review.

[.]

-- the privilege is all mine, monsieur...

[jacob erin-cilberto]

"like a sedated patient and warm my pillows onto her gentle lips"

damn i love that line...

softness in this...love in this...simple, unadorned, just felt from the heart and soul.

[Cat]

Thank you so much.

[terry smith]

This is AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!! :) did I say I liked it 'cause I really do!!!

[Cat]

Thanks so much Terry! Appreciate it :)