She was beautiful in the bright. She was beautiful in the sheen. Autumn height lived and passed yet she remained, brilliant in height-hue.
He gazed on her from near-afar as she spoke amongst a crowd. Gathering of friends and strangers, it was only she that held his eyes: lovely in her presence. Brightness over fair, he admired every detail: fall and wave of her hair in catch of gentle winds and, too, in body’s move; the hide of her eyes under sunglass-cover, earrings’ adorn, the straight of her lips in listen-focus, their curl of smile to a say; eye-draw of her dress like waterfall downward in its flow to break and end at open ankles and thin strap heels showing toes with glossed, dark painted ends.
She was beautiful in the bright.
Through the scene, wind stirred in sweep. It caught in her hair, spreading in fan, and pressed strong in hold to her front, loose cover dress changed in the wind to tight fit and sculpted show of body’s beauty beneath the bright. In windblown keep, her beauty showed in amazed allure, denuded, still in dress, by revealing of the wind.
From crowd and conversation, shift in stand and change in smile—she shared what sunglasses saved in hidden eyes—her attention went to him. Unguarded in openness of eyes’ return and hold, each took pleasure in the see.
She was beautiful in windblown show, sculpted frame in windblow’s press, and he desired her right then.
Through the space, she felt his spirit, knew his want. Her smile changed, straight lips’ return as hands reached for hair remained in windblown scatter as she sought compose and return as wind kept strong press-denude: the lines of her legs, the lines of her sides, curve of hips sloped shapings of her breasts and low hint of circled forms casting matte shadows on the sheen.
She was beautiful in the bright, beautiful in brilliance and defiance of autumn’s change and color-fall away. He admired every shown and sculpted detail.
Wind stilled. Hide restored, but the restlessness remained. He knew she felt it too.
Her hair composed, returned to fall, sunglasses’ raise, her autumn eyes’ commune; sweep of windblown spirit struck. Small smile shared, dark lens’ hide returned, he left her to her crowd and conversations as he went for a time to be alone in walk amongst garden and trees, his restless still within as sky and wind restored to calm.
She was beautiful in the bright, even more so in beneath; and on his walk, he thought on her greater beauty—and to night—when windswept spirit stripped the bright and he would take in passion her wonder-sculpt flashed in windblown show.