Canvas

Indeed a challenge to describe one you haven't seen, they assuredly are a blank canvas, and as you think on them your mind tries to connect the dots and paint their image, always bringing it back to those we've seen, or my mind is just incapable of creating someone new. Nevertheless to draw the one whom I've never laid gaze upon, I will draw best efforts.

She is adorned in a mild skin colour, with the constellations drawn on her in the form of countless freckles, from her heads top to her legs connection to foot. She is given hair that draws it's ends near her neck and shoulders, a reminder of these softer, more delicate and intimate features. She draws smile from a set of lips that are brushed burning red like the fire that could be had if they made connection with my own. Her curvature is not over-exaggerated, nor overly exposed, room for respect of her body but enough to keep you in the chase of what it might be.

She is adorned with dresses of splendid color reminiscent of the eggs given color for the Easter holiday and the sandals that they tell us the ancient Romans and Greeks once equipped their feet with. Her head is given a lovely band of the palest flowers and free flowing underneath. Her hair is what most folks give the quality of strawberry blonde, a fine wine blend of a bodied red and sweet white. Her eyes are as piercing as the sweet sting in cupid's arrows, and are far greener than the emeralds and jades you may have seen at the jeweler's. She is ever so dainty, but oh so strong in every form. She can speak in the language of honey, gaining your favor for her requests, and she is supremely fluent in the language of fire, burning the world you created and causing your bridges with others to be lost also.

She is Venus. She is love. She is pursuit. Don't leave your mortal to be lost in this vicious walk, Dominus!