The Elegance of Silk and Skin

A Love Poem to Her Legs

Photo by Emmanuel Bior on Unsplash

Her legs are said to be two fields,
In nudity, two gardens sown with silk,
Two tubes of clay that gently yield,
And two golden waterfalls, like milk.

Her dress escapes behind her knee,
As she wades in water and in shade,
Over jasmine fields, wild and free,
From spring meadow to meadow of glade.

And as the tears of water flow,
To the warmth of the loving embrace,
Oh, what stories do her garments know?
What whispers of snow? What secrets of lace?

For I stand beneath her windowpane,
On a thread of light, so rich and dark,
Let not the snows of winter restrain,
Nor the veil of the night, so stark.

For I am but a son of fleeting time,
Yet in her legs, I find my repose,
Let not their beauty be a crime,
But a shelter for my restless woes.

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