An ode to She

She held him close to her finery,

Her bosom.

Her breath on his face was soft and slow

But her heart was racing into his ear aptly placed.

Her mind was  solely on his form,

The most on her, the rest Stretched out in front.

She inhaled his perfume, stroked his hair, smooth his clothes

Spoke soft words of appreciation and care for him

Kindness and deep-rooted want

Like finding something rare

Like rubbing a magic lamp.