Lips Painted Red
Like the blood puddling
From a freshly cut rose.
Eyes Ringed in Black
As the edge of the canyon
Is circled by the herder and his flock.
An artist, her body the canvas,
perfect strokes define the natural beauty.
Standing out among
the bland faces, pallid
sheer pink,
each unidentifiable from the next.

The rain is pattering on the windows
leaving patterns that may not be traced.
Droplets, streaks,
ever changing as the
precipitation continues.

Steam embraces the curve
of her mug closely.
Her exhale, fragrant
of earl grey.
Perspiration forms on
her mouth, not so
different from Jordan.

Her Irises dance
the contra around the pupil.
A flirtation developed with
the rotation of hips, batting
of thick lashes, a brushing
of the hand against
the glass cased knee