moving so fluently with every mouthed transition. 

Unruffled chin-length shadowed hair,

flowing this way and that with a sullen flair. 

Eyes as black-holes,

so dark and untamed; depraved,

piercing eyes having no meaning of shame. 

Soft skin so delicate it quivers with any contact,

an indulgence so overflowed it can never contract.

A body so slender and willing to sin,

fragile-appearing hands pulling me in. 

She moves like a demon - conceived of lust. 

An exception to emotions being allowed to rust.

Written by:  Chris Lewis