Falling love, easy to create connection,
of broken chords, no spark, when joined;
eyes drawn to sumptuous curves, motion
reveals it's palatability, a field lust dire to mawed.

Hers was a ring, I entered, strayed,
not the grab of physique, I fought, I was dragged
by her eyes, culling me to wrestle with,
in the art of love, engaged the opponent, fed with crumbs of wit.

Pinned by her beauty, I tried to retaliate,
she pressed on, till I submitted to her meekness,
lost in the direction of lost, I smiled I do, it was late,
I tapped out, the referee's whistle, she received me the trophy, of endless.


© Nyeri
#marriage #love #woo #beauty