Diana

Diana

I paint her in summer sun,
the midday breeze caressing
Diana’s proud breasts,
warm fingers of August heat
tracing circles over taut flesh.

Brushstrokes mimic alabaster skin
dimpled with shades of barest pink
as her cheeks flush, fires stoked within—
she is aroused and I am nervous.

The model’s eyes narrow in mischief.
I ask her not to smile

but she does anyway.

 

Copyright © 2011 by Christopher Chaffin – All rights reserved

Advertisements

About cjchaffin

Wordsmithing is my passion. I eat, sleep, and breathe words and phrases, only to regurgitate them and pray that they are better off than when I first ingested them.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s