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Cold marble caressing the tips of soft painted toes.
Glistening clear nails adorned with gold delicately bejeweled rings, the harmonious light tinkling of anklets draped over dainty ankles.
This graceful curved body
moving more cool and fluidly as the finest six-plumed birds of paradise.
For such is she
be as a radiant angel from another lucid plane
soaring over a lush untouched paradise which she reignsluminescent wings reflecting off a pond of stars, where silver swans and golden koi wade in eternal grace. Luxuriant flora & foliage sewed within every inch of this divine Idyll, where various fauna live in perfect, serene equanimity. Even the onyx fanged serpent enjoys the heavenly fragrant Nishagandhi bloom in his hour of prey, whilst the field mouse wanders by unnerved. Whereby the Amur Malaia Leopard laps the warm milk of the alabaster cow under the bountiful fruit trees, berry bush and fern beside the lapis lazuli statues of the hath not fallen angels of heaven, eyes of opal, entangled in vines, the grapes that groweth off which feeds birds of a tune so heavenly, only the purest of spirit may hear. Here where she must dwell, for nowhere in this mortal mans world could she have possibly risen, her eyes of Jade, hair of holy fertile soil, as if from Eden itself. Skin oiled with drops of fine fragrance from overseas and celestial vanities. She glistens in the sun, scintillating with each smile and word. This lady which I wander about the wood aimlessly, fixated in my conscious and sub-conscious. Her scent, the suavis melody in her voice, Her swaying airy curls paint my mind shades of lavender and rose. Those lips I glimpse flushed pink with the heat from her cup of tea. May she be my tea, honeyed brown star anise in a fiery brew of euphoria. Rejuvenate me, resuscitate me, reinvigorate me. Just a sip of longevity and health ad infinitum, oh lady of the desert sea, temples of old in the far east strung with rubies and pearls still could not match my undying desire to give you all. For even all of me is not worth you. This silly boy with a feather and inkwell, wailing of love. Who watches you play in intricately carved stone fountains through the exuberant undergrowth of your most adored foliage. Your tender hands splashing water on blossoming nymphs you confide in, do you speak of me lovely one? A sacred lotus in a fountain of lily pads, I hop over all just to feel your gentle petals, even if for a moment. Ancient refined amber amidst common powdered crystal.

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