Slowly Move Her Feet

Fearfully pale
Like the milk-white moon,
His body trembles
Like a chandelier
In an earthquake
At meeting the lady
Of his irrepressible dreams
On an ordinary street
Near the Monday morning bakery.

I’ve been that man,
Lost where I stand
Contemplating blue eyes at dawn
Or a yellow skirt in the afternoon.

Sweet intoxication of desire,
Lovely feminine defeat,
Every man is deliriously happy
To see a woman smile
Or slowly move her feet.