For gift, he wrote a story in hand for her to see: a story of love, a story of lusts, intimacies of romance.
He wrote his spirit. He wrote his heart, his essence as an art.
Complete, at table in center-heart and inner chamber of their home, he gave for her to read.
In its tell and through the read, he viewed her change; gift returned to him from giving. He watched her of attention in eyes, forward lean and draw of body toward the page, her slow and deepened full of breath, shift of body returned to high; her back straight, then further on into curve of arc, fill and rise of nipples’ through at touch and effect of spirit; her still and silence after; then smile that became in know and understand that story was mere beginning to the gift.
Her stir of spirit further shone in telling of her eyes—autumn yellow through the green, glint of heaven in their shade—her move of body from chair to rest on table’s edge; crossed legs, light in eyes still expressing, inviting him to dare.
Romance hue of the rich tone walls surrounded her in seat. Thin cover-fall of lounging gown, she dressed in color-same: hue of her dreams, hue of her essence, hue of strong spirit in its share.
Then loose and fall of cover-robe, unhiding of its hue, fair and freckled beauty and accent-risings of her longing showed naked in love-openness.
She smiled as he changed, knowing suddenness of strong-heart pulse and body-strain of draw; draw to her essence, to romance spirit hued as room around.
He laid her back. Her stomach tensed in body curl of rise to hold and take and see as on open spread of table in center of heart-room, they made the story strong: art of spirit and the flesh.