Ode to Bleu

a sonnet for a never-to-be-realized love

I know her only as a picture, yet
I want to know much more, and find what lies
behind her shaded eyes. Where has she met
with wonderment? What stimulates the cries
of her delight?  And when does she bestow
her sensual perfection, giving one
enamored man a vivid, private show
where two physiques and souls shall merge and stun
their avid hungers with a multitude
of massive affirmations?   I would be
that man, to probe her layers from the crude
and basic to refined, sublime, and free
expressions celebrating life and lust
and mutuality of naked trust.