NPM 28

She's What You Might Call Attractive

Nothing dangling from her ears,
no flash or whistle eliciting,
she is a return to modesty
personified, green stem,
crimson rose reclosed
to a pod of virtue.
She shuffles flat across the dance
floor, deliberately out of step,
as only a skillful dancer
knows how to dance
badly on
stage.
She is so completely dense, you
could tie the universe
around her waist,
a watered silk
sash. Her
eyes
report the remotest evidence
of event horizon, though
you would need
a third eye
to see
her.