Love

Love lies in pleasant half-sleep, 
beautiful like the morning
and the full bloom of flowering youth.
The innocence of the child
gives beauty to her maturity.
Her hair flows in curly locks
like a chocolate-colored stream that rushes
down a mountain, over rocks, through valleys;
Silken ribbon upon the satin pillow.
With skin like dark mohagony and honey
soft as newborn flesh
smooth as perfect crystal
Her body, calm and motionless
except the rhythmic rise of her breast
like the silent ebb and flow of the sea.