Gypsy Girl


She walks in

a riot of color
from head to toe.
The perfect facade
to the dusty greys of life.
The jangle of her bangles
had men looking up,
her musical laugh,
had them smiling shyly to themselves.
But yet when she lowered her eyes,
the shadows of yesterday fell upon them.

Many a man wanted to utter those words,
but a blank yet meaningful gaze silenced them all.

The gaze.
It’s the gaze that intrigued them,
that memory harked back to,
on many a rainy day.
It held them in its silent fury
and every flick of the eye 
was a challenge
a whiplash on their heightened senses.

But then she laughed again,
that sunny laugh of hers,
and the clouds parted again.
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