Hands and eyes,
Thin fingers
Unpolished nails
(at least on this occasion),
Rings today
None tomorrow
Glinting in sunlight
Through windows
That once belonged
To a bank,
Windows looking down
On a busy street,
Her seat faces the windows
And the sunlight
While I sit with my back,
She is never in shadow,
Her deep, dark eyes
Always gleaming,
One hand splayed
Over the pad she brought
The other grips a pen,
Her gaze
Sweeping the room
From her side of the table,
Eyes and hands,
Eyes framed in thick black lines,
Intense eye shadow,
Drawing a man in
Like a fly to a spider’s web,
Trapped in the strands
Until she chooses
To release him.
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