november, near to me.

polished ivory,
 her delicate flesh
pulled taught across
 quivering bones
made of the same ferocity
 that feeds a fire.

pearl-kissed lips,
 parted softly
with the lilting, gentle
 caress that fans across
my own flushed skin.

 graceful hands,
softly tempting tired muscles
 to loosen, rest
and probing fingertips
 made only for nurturing
and inspiring comfort.

 tumultuous and silver-blue,
like the Atlantic in a winter storm
 her gaze flickers fleetingly
with the benevolence of
 old humanity.