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beauty: in pieces. Part Four.

she stands there, cold
hard stone. shapeless.
formless. void. much like
the Earth as the Spirit
hovered above the waters.
eyeballing the creation with
only a creative intent.
much like the way i stared
at this blank paper before
setting my ink as a stain
on its pure white perfection.

out comes a chisel and
the formless marble begins
to take shape. what it
reveals are the curves.
curves hidden there for
ages and ages. curves that
touch the only thing Primal
left in me, a
twenty-first century man.
rounded edges, soft enough
to make this cold hard
stone, nearly supple
in the artist’s loving hands.

curves around the hips, the
back, the breast, the leg, all
bearing the mark of a master
artisan. it becomes
the center of gravity
towards which all of nature
is pulled. no eye can hide
itself from the cosmic
forces that beckon just a glance.
just a foretaste of the joys
one finds traversing the lithe
contours of a woman.

there is nothing in me that
would not acquiesce to each
and every subtle bend of
flesh, around muscle, around bone,
around your sweetly beating heart.

none but the Creator Himself
could have fashioned a more
beautiful creature. deep
calls to deep, indeed. i drown
myself in your gyrating seas.

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5 thoughts on “beauty: in pieces. Part Four.

  1. shameless self-promotion but damn I really enjoyed writing this particular poem. the whole series of Beauty: In pieces has been a joy to write but this one…. man. I just dig it. Ladies….God bless u…and the curves. Each one of you, flowers of infinite and incredible design.

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