He's got the kind of eyes
You accidentally fall into
Like a ledge of gravel
You lose your footing
You slide quickly down
Into two honey pools
That at first are angry
But smooth instantly
Like fresh maple syrup
Sticky and gripping
Flirtatiously manipulative
Naturally captivating
Like a siren's song
And before too long
You've drowned
And he blinks
And he's won