Sensual Embers

The Garden of Eden

In the green hush where the river bends,
where moss remembers every footstep,
she rests among the old stones
as though the forest dreamed her there.

Light falls softly through cedar and fern,
a golden breath upon skin and water,
and every leaf leans closer
to hear the silence of her grace.

Here, the world is not yet broken.
The stream still speaks in silver,
the fallen trees become altars,
and beauty moves without apology.

She is not hidden from the garden—
she belongs to it:
hair like sunlight caught in rain,
body curved like the banks of the creek,
stillness shaped by breath.

Eden was never a place untouched,
but a moment remembered—
when earth, water, light, and longing
found one another
and called it peace.