"Wrapped" © 1999 by ~ Danny Hahlbohm

Reflections In The Looking Glass

     I watched you as you sat there at your boudoir, your brush in your hands, and my passions rose. Before you were all the weapons of a woman. The scents to drive my nostrils wild, the powders which make your pale flesh so smooth and desirable. The colors which catch and hold my eye. How unfair! To be so beautiful, to draw such attention, to turn so many heads and melt so many hearts...

     My heart leapt in anticipation, my soul burned, my blood boiled within the furnace of my desire. I was reduced to a quiver, a sigh, a prayer; for your beauty is so stunning, your smile so captivating, your trap was being so carefully laid. I become a bumbling olf, I swallowed and my heart caught up in my throat. My mind was like the mirror, your image captured and filling it's total depth...

     How could the looking glass reproduce such beauty? Could the craftsman have known, the labor of his hands, the heat of his furnace, forging the glass that would capture and hold such beauty! Your beauty was reflected from it's surface in turn reproducing the heat of that furnace, it's fires melting my soul, fanning the flames of my desires. I was slain, undone, a willing captive of the beauty reflected in your mirror...

     Nothing mortal man can design, nothing mortal man can erect, nothing mortal man can create, can match the reflections of your beauty from the mirror's glass; nothing can match the reflections of your beauty held safely deep within my soul....

~ David L. Griffith ~

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