I miss you so much,
I’ll never stop yearning
for your exquisite touch.
I still cry, scream and despair;
all i do is think of you, brushing...?

I’m always brushing my hair,
staring passively into
the dreamy, silvery pond,
tempting me with beauty;
reminding me of
missed youth.

Longer, older, wiser?
The secrets it could tell.
Samson and Delilah!
Quickly...

Lotions and potions,
scents to intoxicate...
bright colored masks
and pots of colors.

The cruel skull of fading vanity,
winks back, a wickedly,
inviting grin.

“What a freudian thought!”
the image replies.
A rich and inviting voice;
Black, sockets welcome
so frightfully,
dark and hollow.

They’ll always rule
my dreams...
those blue eyes.
that once held me true;
enraptured and ensnared.

A calm tropical ocean,
unreachable and cold.
Desire flares up;
A tattered postcard
breaks the reflection,
reality interferes.

Primping and preening,
hair is twisted up tight.
preparing for capture,
rare and quixotic hunters,
are released!

Muses of beauty
inspiration and love
Sent by her good Lord,
loving and wanting her
from so high above.

A mountain thunderstorm,
unreachable and cold
on her knees,
needing someone,
warm and...
delightful to behold.