Perfectly curled caramel hair Cascades down her shoulders, Bouncing in time with the music. He can’t help but savor every Fragment of her movement as he Traces the camera around her frame, Capturing the dance. She’s an actress in every sense of the term, Her eyes sad yet powerful, Her body hurting yet beautiful. The music ends and she stops, breathless, Her hair that has fallen in front of her face Flowing up and down as she catches her breath. “Did you get it?” She asks him, And suddenly he’s back to himself, Back from the world her dance took him to. “Definitely,” he says, and when Her dimples break her face open, The camera is still rolling, For he doesn’t want to miss a second of her beauty. She isn’t just poetry. She is art.