winding whirlpools...

Childish vulnerable dimples
Adorn a dusky elusiveness
Of a face, many a poet couldn't capture.
Heart breaking beauty she possess
From that slender neck
Down to her tiny ankles.
Delicate fingers weave
Artistic patterns.
An art to enchant
She holds in the dark curls
That curtain her translucent beauty.
As the morning steals upon the night
A smile serenades her face.
A predatory glimmer covers
The depths of her demure
Brown eyes as she scans
The crowd for his approaching face.