Caricamento in corso...
Robert L. Martin

The Glistening

The face of the sunlight on display,
a visage of beauty before the eyes,
seductive arms reaching out
in their sensual gathering,
pulling the beholder into the light,
the glistening of the glassy texture,
the glamour of the rolling lines,
the thrill in the electric spine,
the ride to the heart of the loin
through deep illuminated tunnels,
the smiles reaching the corners of the soul,
the spirit dancing with the wayward winds,
moving at a poetic pace,
a suspension between earth and sky,
a luxuriating in deep space,
a love of the feel of the glistening,
of its seductive smiles,
her smooth lines,
her oils reflecting the sun,
dripping through the pores,
her accentuating the beauty that she is,
the way she loves the sunlight,
the silent echoes of its soothing voice,
the way it touches the skin,
the fingers that dance upon the surface,
the feeling that seduces the beholder,
that brings his blood to a rhythmic boil,
that heats up the vessels to his heart,
his love of the beauty of the texture,
the smoothness of the glassy surface
and the glistening that
mirrors the rays of the sun.

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