Worry

I noticed you staring at your makeup mirror,
Searching for every trace of your skin aging,
Worried about time, and how it moves all of us,
From here, full of youth, framed by suppleness,
To there, touched by that same time, changing what we see of our bodies…
What we perceive of ourselves.

Here’s what I see…
Looking at you.

A beautiful, vibrant, sensual woman,
Glorious,
Graceful,
Glowing with beauty,
Casually firing my longing to touch you…
Every,
Single,
Day.

And now, seated before me, unaware of how your attractiveness
Captivates my every moment,
You wreck my peace and tranquility,
With your brazen beauty…

Unapologetic, for your total control of my being.

Worry not goddess,
I am yours,
Forever.

Worry not.

 

© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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