She was my portrait for the day

If anything

I couldn't concentrate

She wasn't the first nude 

I had to work upon

But she was indisputably

The first woman who was sheer art

From those wavy tresses

Caressing her earthy flesh

To those ripe mangoes 

Embellishing her curvy waist

She was a muse par excellence

She was aware of her magnetic spell

Yet she posed

As I tried to paint her in red

But my hands trembled

Frustrated, I told her

I can't do justice to your form

She simply smiled

And said, inhale the fragrance I disseminate 

From the aroma of my hair

To the nectar of my breasts

Plunge in the secrecy of my navel

And inhale the aroma of my mystical forests

Inhale

Inhale my boy

Till you smell of nothing else

But me

Only then you can essay my essence 

©LR