Kess of Bacchia (Part 1)
Roam the Woods of the Satyrs’ Endless Night
To catch a glimpse of Her. To see Her
Caress the waters’ of the lake.
An act mere mortals call swimming,
The routine of bathing by the moons’ light.
But She, wading the shallows,
Every wave about her supple flesh
Refusing to depart and ripple onward.
She does not bathe, for she is carried
By the water. Ever droplet yearning;
If only to caress Her once, from head to toe,
They would carry Her about across the lake.
Beneath the moon, that always seems to shine
Upon Her. Glistening off her curves as she glitters
On the lake like the stars above.
Even the trees sway toward Her,
And whisper with the winds, Her name.
Flowers like a lusting adolescent
Cannot but bloom too soon for Her
And burst in premature petals; their love.
And she, unaware or unconcerned
By it all. Perhaps used to it by now
That so many watch Her, adoring.
Or with fantasies of what can never be
Swelling their tongues and their loins.
Possessed of all the fullness of charm,
Mere seduction in her passing by;
A pleasure to all the senses.
She cannot but be desired by all in nature;
It is the justice of Her beauty.
Unknown "♥Satyrical♥" Purring
- 16 years, 5 months, 28 days ago