Epitaph For Beauty

She was a statue that had sprung to life
For the mere vision of her was a feast for my eyes.
I would marvel at her pale skin,
& grey eyes that would
see deep into the heart of my sins.

That voice pouring words into the air,
liquid silver spilling over me,
encasing me in safety.
The shape of her hands
unfolding to touch my arm.

For a moment in time,
we were perfect.
The humid nights
heady with her perfume.
Soft thighs tangled
in the sheets.

Though I never told her
how I felt, i'm doing it now
and I hope she hears me.
The crimson glow of memory
will forever haunt me.