Thy beauty,

fickle doth it play

upon my youthful

vanities.

Radiant doth

it burn

upon my tender

sensibilities.

Passionately doth

it wrest my gaze

and redirect my

steps.

Insistently,

doth it create

smoldering sensations

in my loins.

Heat, be the feeling

on my skin.

Damp, then,

the beads on my brow.

Pulsating, be the

veins beneath my flesh.

Excitement, be, the

force behind my stride.

Though, the true source,

the driving question,

the impetus behind my curiosity,

that of ultimate urgency, be,

who is she,

beyond the beauty?

Humbly yours,

J