My acrophobic heart fell but somehow leapt the crevasse of my throat at first glimpse of her delicate shoulders these perfect bones under an exactness of skin shoulders which with a feather God himself chiseled and could not have left to apprentices. At that moment she made Venus seem unworthy of sculpting The guile less fact of her smile that had never been tugged by a fleshly thought made her shoulders nymphbare. And all I could offer her were my worst emotions: jealousy of the sun that warmed them the distance of summer. I doubt a prudish thought was ever unfilthy and found myself wanting a sweater to cover them just so I could see it slip to reveal the subtle skin that could not be mimicked in smoothness of any stone Helen's face sent Troy to sea but leering historians forgot her mundane shoulders

Copyright © 1999 by J. Kevin Wolfe Feedback can be sent directly to J. Kevin Wolfe Look up other works by J. Kevin Wolfe in the Author Index. J. Kevin Wolfe writes professionally and writes poetry as therapy to relieve the trauma caused by writing professionally. His poems appear incessantly on the Web and have appeared in the print publications: Paris/Atlantic, Voice, One Dog Press, The Body Inside, Maelstrom, Along the Path, and "Silhouettes In The Electric Sky." He hopes someday to have enough money to lose day trading.

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