Clover honey waves just passing the ears,
Irises like a stone pine’s bark,
Full, peach, lips
And rose beige skin.
Slender, just enough to see the lines of his muscles.
And a body bare of hair, unlike the animal.
He shifts and sways his way wherever he pleases.
He doesn’t fret.
Soft-spoken with a voice like lilies, he beams at whomever he talks to.
The rising sun to a fleeting night.
After having wild dreams in quarantine, I’ve finally escaped writer’s block.