They wax and wane like two bright moons
In separate orbits around their sun;
When she nods or holds her head still,
They shimmer slightly, almost full.
She smiles, I see their lunar shapes,
Nearly motionless by her face.  

She shakes her head, they fly about
Twisting, whirling, swinging out;
They settle after much ado--
A final quarter and crescent new
That tremble gently while she thinks
And swing like pendulums when she speaks;
The quarter hides beneath her hair;
I watch for it to reappear.

They jiggle, dangle and attract;
I fight my feelings, holding back.
She tilts her head, and one suspends;
The other lies along her neck:
She's thinking, pondering what was said,
Not quite sure the point she'll make.
She blinks, nods slowly, writes it down,
Draws her breath, then makes a frown,
Turns away, then looks at me:
"No, no," she says, "I disagree...",
And then they bounce and rock and spin
Like wind chimes in a gust of wind.