Her sweetness-laden face,
beckoned with a grace,
A wishful ray of hopes,
inconspicuously morose.

He read it with an ease,
The Pinings cached in crease,
Swaying like a tremor,
Agog for a breather.

Whilst unfurling the crease,
He feared his irrational leash,
Careened before her eyes,
And pulled his hands back inside.

He thought he had better,
Leave intact the wrapper,
For a sudden quietude hurts more,
Than a phlegmatic uproar.