Somewhere, beyond the ravages of the world
stands the idol of perfection,
the epitome of man.
Silent, stoic,
in an eternal trance,
seeing the whole of the world,
and all in it.
Lies, terror, frustration and sadness,
punctuated by the greatest joys, insurmountable beauty.
A tear, the only sign of life,
crystalline, translucent,
tracing the time worn cheek.

Finding solace,
dancing naked in the moonbeams,
slipping between the trees -
nymph-like -
paying homage to the ancients.
His glistening phallus waiting,
teasing, testing the waters,
touching the sea within me.
Consummate our marriage
again and again,
rising beyond the point
of total exhilaration,
and sliding down the length
of his silken manhood.
The moon hides her face,
and we drift into the arms
of Morpheus,
Until the dawn rouses us