She poised her foot
As if she were a dancer
Standing there before me.
A pointed toe,
A silken calf
As she so gracefully flowed
Standing there before me.
I watched her sway,
As she perused volumes
Of arcane literary thought.
Though I watched intently
I knew that I ought
Not to say a solitary word
Or she would no longer be
Standing there, before me.
The moment passed, alas.

02/10/2006

Posted on 04/24/2006
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