Passing Glances

A slender form slips through the crowd,
careless of the curious eyes,
like the pale moon slips past the clouds,
she beckons my gaze to the skies.

Her elegant scarlet tresses
frame an ivory decollete,
and conceal her furtive glances
as she slowly dances my way.

For a moment we turn away
– she lets her verdant, velvet dress
brush past my hands as if to say,
“All that’s left is for us to guess.”