The Soirée

The muffled raindrops knocking on the window sill
Burying her soft whispers of sleep.
Her demure eyes are half open, moving;
Dreaming of us in a land of sunsets.
Those big brown eyes,
With lashes like a fairy tale…..
The ones that stole me with their first glance,
They move in a deep REM.

Her soft dulcet lips pucker a little
Revealing a hint of white pearls.
I can smell her breath from here,
Reminiscent of last night’s last cigarette,
Her ‘morning mouth’ smell,
The smell that is sweeter than chocolate.
I caress the silky locks of her dark blonde,
She smiles in her dream, to say ‘thank you’…

And as the first glow of the morning light
Lit up her diaphanous skin
She lays there like a legend,
A mermaid from the shores of Valhalla
In the silence of the northern sea waves,
Waiting for me.
And in this soirée, in this silence,
I believe she is mine.

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