She is an Echo

Standard

The theme is want.

Sexuality.
Sensuality.

Her face is composed
of choirs,
each pulling

for higher states
of consonance,
each magnifying

a lightning flash
in a crystal lens.
Her arms stain my bed

and linger
in golden strands.
She is an echo bounding

through a weighted sky,
cellular fusion,

and a herald of cascades.

-r. miller

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