her touch, cold...
with fingertips mimicking the softness of silk before my very own skin
eyes with such depth,
oceans began representing mere droplets of rain fallen from the heavens above
she was a rose, begging to be undone
and when she spoke, she was begging to be loved
she mirrored  Venus, a goddess to all but a lover to few
she kissed with an endless wanting for more
rhythmic, as she moved gracefully before me
profound as one could possibly be...

however, she existed only in my dreams