Her hair was swept to the left
The ends gently brushed her shoulder.
Her eyes the warmest of browns
Invited me into the
Corners of her generous smile.
She held her body with strength,
And smelled like the garlic and spices
Of the kitchen she worked in.
Nervously I would steal a glance
From behind my glass of savingnon blanc
And smile too eagerly in hopes
That she would lean closer
Letting her earrings bobble in motion.