my adonis

My Adonis

With his sun kissed hair, illuminated by his easy smile and gentle laugh

My Adonis is a living statue. His edges and curves all perfectly crafted, rough and sharp, but smoothed over in a way that begs for a finger to lightly trace them.

In the dark of the room, the shadows take turns hiding and highlighting his body, small gasps of wonder are the only noises heard.

A statue that is living and breathing, yet crafted and carved. It's ever so easy to understand why Aphrodite fell.

Eyes follow when my Adonis moves and his body tells a story of power, love, and beauty.

My Adonis smiles, breaking the statuistic constraints of the moment.

"I love you"

My Adonis is living, breathing, loving art.

***

author's note:

I wrote this the night after a boy (the boy) confessed he loved me. A whirlwind time that was, he has always reminded me of the Greek Adonis (which is semi-egotistical I'm aware) though it fits him so well. My Adonis is mine.