her beauty

her beauty could not be matched.
blood red lips turned up in a crescent
her black hair flapping in the wind
the ravens so envious
complaining with a caw
her long pale legs, complimented by her dress
her brest as full grapefruit.
Her beauty could not be matched, they said
but the moon dared to argue
she said her light shone brighter than her eyes
her dress of night was darker than her hair
her dips and curved where far more pronounced
When the woman herd this, she was not envious
she was happy.
she had found an equal.
maybe even a friend to share the night with.