The start of a transition
we only wish
to peel away layers 
revealing the beauty
made of nakedness.  
Beauty that’s been 
locked up for years
is finally free. 
To roam as she wants
all cupped and warm
with an upturned glance
casually falling over
her bare shoulders. 
Written there, on her side
are the pretty words.
She honestly doesn’t mind,
as long as we look
keeping eyes
away from hers. 
This promise 
to always be the one
comes at a heavy price,
most wouldn’t want to swear
to be her one true love
against the hours now
I’m hurrying to write
to get it all down. 
So that long before
she ever wakes up
and asks from exactly where
all this is coming from?
I can deny
I stayed awake
making sure
she had her fill
of poetic words. 
Love stumbles and falls
all laid out
are erotic wants and needs
that bleed and sour together. 
Even still,
she’s prettier than
most others 
and all this
is long before
she ever 
grows her wings.