Reformation

The curve of your ear drops

soft to the lobe,

connects to the line of your neck

and traces your throat

to the hollow of collar bone.

The jut of your jaw,

whiskered and smooth,

to the supple lips and gentle

lift to your sleeping lids

catch my breath as if it were thoughts

and an ache of longing and grace

lightens the weight

of my head and reforms root.

A/N: OK readers... does this say "beauty" enough? I hate writing on traditional poetry topics... love, beauty, BLECH. the prompt was "beauty" and nothing more.