A Sonnet to the Secrets of Her Folds

She lies unclothed, asleep at dawn’s first light,  

Her skin aglow, a summer’s warm embrace.  

Between two hills, a sparrow’s fleeting flight,  

A whispered secret, hidden in that space.  

A garden lush, untamed, where beauty grows,  

Its solitude, a treasure softly kept.  

Her inner thighs, where velvet’s gentleness flows,  

Like grooves on records where her movements slept.  

The curve of her, a dancer’s arm in air,  

A peach’s sweetness, yielding, lush, and deep.  

Her petals bloom, a rose beyond compare,  

Within, the heart of the bloom it keeps.  

The inguinal fold, a butterfly’s plume,  

A feather’s mark on clay, a fragile trace.  

And yet, too beautiful for me, she’ll drift away,  

Yet in my heart, her beauty’s here to stay.  

Her splendor burns, a flame I fail to hold,  

In dreams, her folds forever I behold.