I dream of beauties
that look like you,
portrait worthy.
Satin gown,
evening gloves
with a glistening rock
covering a lovely finger,
bracelet dawning a graceful wrist
1920s style,
check you out 
in an oval frame
Victorian period worthy,
I look at the face
and wish to know thine story.

If a beauty like such
could be had,
I'd ask questions of intrigue
and if granted,
learn how thee works
in all forms and pleasures
as well as desires

I look at the canvas
and realize I can't give a stroke,
brush in everlasting turmoil
cause my expertise
can't do justice towards you,
body stiffly on fire.

Beauties I dream of
are close
but can't compare,
I awake
gaze and stare
even after remembering their faces,
yet searching the cloudy sun draped room
for you,
black beauty awaiting in pose
in a long dark gown.