Amongst river mist and silt, bathes my beauty

She lingers there, in a pool of stars.

Skin... deep ...dark

Supple,

slick with a glisten

Stress wrings her back

If I could intervene

With a tranquil gesture

a pink  blossom.

Yet, ones wants are moot

behind steel confines

Only eyes may touch what must be rose petal

Faint delicate  veins arush with fuchsia nectar.

To have you is to keep you,

secret and concubine

Unearthing roots to steady.

Head deep submerged in dusky blesseth water

When you rise,  I may behold you.

Solid doctrine,

keeps me here,

crouching, grasping at soaking roots.

Could I love your sweet neck

and lay you under dripping leafs?

I long long long to weep into your shadowy hair.

If we were a sterling and a dove no one would even care.