She was fantasy
Cloaked in the skin of a woman
Her gaze the perfume of diamonds
And laughter like a landslide
Its eruption shrouding the would-be shame
Of those who reveled in the impervion of
Daydreams of a sacred escape with her

She was music
Caught in the throat of an angel
Her kiss a drink straight to the head
And touch like worship
The promise of gently cleansing grace
Sculpting the smooth backs of hungered dreams
For an honest, devoted goddess

She was life
Packaged by Pandora
Her heart a looking glass
And good intentions like willow tree roots
Climbing over and through the muddied minds
Of those wearing masks for ignorance of
How to celebrate their dualities in love

(This might be only a part I)