Your cool as frost stare,
while coyly playing peek-a-boo
from behind a fan of clouds,
has kept your wanton visage burned
upon mans imagination.
You have mystified for eons,
with a slowly batting eye.
Drawing upon our souls,
as a tree draws moisture.
Slowly, yet surely siphoning our lust.
Men have stepped a kiss upon
your delicately powdered face.
You have left them craving more.