She spoke beautifully of it
In a manner that nature seemed so magical-like
As a waterfall,
Streaming out from her words.
Not in a cold diction,
Rather a summer warmth.
In which the waterfall spoke,
Of only benevolent diction.
She squeaked in a high pitch,
Yet gentle tone.
Her face remained pink peach.
While her eyes,
Gave off the visual of a marvelous ecstasy.
Who knew that such thing was even possible.
It made you wonder of the sentiment itself,
Of such marvelous ecstasy…
She spoke of his satiny lips,
As if it were the most,
Divine sensation she had ever felt.
The brightness in her gaze,
Gave away the passionate reminiscing of hers.
Brushing off the strands of hair,
That kept swaying around her face,
She spoke of how vigorous her heart palpitated.
She spoke beautifully of it.