Beauty and the Soul
She was beauty itself, she wore her sexuality like a cloak of the finest silk that everyone wanted to touch.
She brushed against many, teasing, taunting in her loveliness but few would know the bliss of her embrace, her lips and hands on them.
Many tried to grasp at her, tried to tear at her being and essence, but all failed, for it was as I said.
Her sexuality was merely a cloak that hid the magnificence of her soul, a soul the world would never be fully ready for.
I had never witnessed someone like her, and I never would again. She burned like the brightest of fires, but was a gentle caress of the sweetest nature.
One day she will remove her cloak, still fully intact from the greedy hands and eyes around her and give herself to the one that always saw what it was.
One day, someone will finally be worthy of a queen…