There's a special decadence
In standing
Beneath a skylight
With the moonlight streaming,
Mingling
With the water
Flowing sensuously
Over
And down
My nude body.
There are no
Artificial lights
To mar the simplicity
Of this hedonistic
Moment,
When a mere shower,
Scented with musk
And roses,
Becomes
A rare and
Utterly natural
Expression
Of my womanhood.
I give a languid
Yet heartfelt nod
Of feminine appreciation
To the enlightened one
Who had placed
The wondrous window
Where the moon
Could work
It's ethereal
Magic.