Serena Willis Posts

Behold this square of cambric white,so chastely wrought with lace,now stained by dawns of pallid lightthat bloom upon her face. A fragile relic, softly pressedagainst…

I’ve naught but skin stretched over boneAnd that then draped in lace;Poise maintained, ethereal tone—Both writ upon my face. I must admit, to my chagrinThe…