A woman beyond words

She is sexy green eyes and soft pale skin
She is messy collars and beautiful breasts
She is an open rose of tectonic tremors
She is a brave woman born of a scandalous affair and an unpublished story
She is uncountable books and a catty dog she is too

She is a pond in the garden with a wild creeper plant at the door
She is quiet on wooden floors and fire within the shadows of dimly lit rooms
She is delicious flavours served at the yellow table with biblical chairs from the church
She is an African mask on the corridor and a British bath with copper pipes
She is 93 years old and also 38
She is a rest on the floral sofa with a small vintage mirror on the floor
She is an old wooden coat stand hidden under jackets and coats for every season and more
She is a Soviet industrial lamp of light in my life hanging low but covering me all