I’d bet you’re beautiful among the flowers.
Your lips dancing smiles to the peonies and butterflies
as you touch the garden
like a bee fluttering petals on its way to honey.
I’d hide amid the sunflowers
per chance that your hand
pause at my neck.
I’d bet you’re beautiful looking up at the moon.
A cool yellow sphere reflected in your warm brown eyes
then fractured by tears of wonder
to fall and scatter like pearls off their string.
I’d be gripped by Aphrodite
and want to shine like Luna
in and out of you.
I’d bet you’re beautiful lying hilly in my bed.
Innocent, fleshy, radiant.
I’d touch you slowly.
And if your hand rushes to your face in shy astonishment
a poem would form from your gestures
for my heart to clutch over and over again.
jeannie dugan sanders