You peek from under
the prettiest head of hair,
thick like your accent,
heads twist,
almost break,
when you willow by
the gawkers gulping java.

You have the rare magic
to stop the wind
wanting to pass through
your lady-essence.
Stardust trails your way,
such luscious curves
memorizing those behind,
you have them trying
to read your mind
with your kind
radiant-eyes.

And me,
I wait with anticipation
as you float right for me,
opening the door to
your workplace,
wishing it was your heart
instead.