The Bod Āt Oxford

In the atrium
Of the Bodleian Library at Oxford
I spied a woman bathing in a most sensual light
A white, porcelain, sculpture
Frozen perfectly in time
And reminiscent of a Botticelli
A vision come to life
And as my imagination
Began to take me away
I considered, I heard her whisper
But somehow revealed, not a thing
My mind danced with the potential
Possibilities manifesting someday
I saw myself bathing her in bubbles
And Lilacs sensual scents
While decoding her natural features
I felt the yearning of so many eyes
Who found themselves just as mesmerized
Drawn to her radiance
Where I become overly protective of her
To the point of child-like jealousy
For never had I felt the coolness
Of marbled features upon my skin
And the way,
The light,
Just,
Held her there...

Tony Taylor

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