These Are Not My Truths, VII

VII

Her skin is copper

Beneath my fingers.

Tangled hair, brown-
her hazel eyes are beautiful

I watch them

darken

with desire.

Protecting her heart,

protecting her soul-

Muscles tense

under my hand.

I want to pull all her pain

into

my body.

Her lower lip trembles, quivers
I love it most of all,

Giving away her fear (and hope)
When she couldn’t speak.

She wonders
why

I want her.

Fire- reflections in her eyes

The delight there,

when I touch her,
Will always be worth it.

She’ll never

believe

She is enough.