For the "Smooth" challenge. In Imladris, Boromir ponders women he has known.
In Memory, Rustling Like Silk
I had a Haradric woman once, a whore; her skin was the softest thing I have ever touched. Her silken robe slipped off her shoulders like mist, leaving me breathless. I was almost ashamed to touch her with my torn, callused hands. Her eyes were dark as obsidian, fathomless.
These elvish women have skin like ivory, what I can see of it, smooth and cold, and their hair gleams like ebonywood. I don’t imagine that I will ever taste that skin, or bury my hands in that hair. Their eyes, too, are fathomless; gazing through me, into the past.