The Lady from Sibiu (Sonnet #2)

As late afternoon sunlight slides into Serbia
The Lady lingers behind bedroom divides
Shoulders shear entice unseen souls of Sibiu?
Whose voyeuristic volitions vent and collide

Calling for her to slide the slender strap
That holds her tenuous beauty beneath the screens
As the frigid air excites, she clamors for Crete,
Craving the crescent moon and summer sins

Praying for his touch, his lips yet remembered,
As he lifted her flower, no, not chaste,
A nameless rogue most selfish wants her encumbered,
To slide across her nameless tongue, to caress,

The Lady's image concealed, her pockets out-turned
With wet fingers, her own, to satisfy yearning

Note: Sonnets, by definition, have 14 lines with 10 syllables in each line. My apologies, I do not always get the iambic pentameter quite right or the exact number of syllables. Nonetheless, enjoy. Again, LadyKristal has provided the inspiration for this sonnet.