Honey


I inspected her silky-skinned body
soaking in the bath tub.
That floral mug balanced meticulously,
yet also naturally, on her womanly chest.
All whilst she flicked her slender fingers
with the tip of her tongue to turn the page of her book,
poised in the air as a statue of intellect.

Reading intently,
water encompassing her frame,
almost choking her fragile neck.
Which my hands had been cloaked round before many a time.
She always looked so peaceful like this.
She’d acknowledge my appearance
look up longingly with those muddy pools
which streamed freedom
and then a smile.
That same old smile.
With a “hello honey” in her brisk, caressing voice.
Holding all four seasons in one second of time.

That’s how I always envisage her - in this way.

Just like honey… dripping
sweet and soothing
her creamy complexion and her cloudy, stained heart

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