Dark tan, flawless skin, smooth as silk, with a sheen

The scarf that she wears, kisses the nape…

The scent of wet hair still floats in the air,

She walks across the room wearing her black halter,

Holding our breath, she makes us wonder.

Who is this girl, where does she come from,

The magic she has, certainly conjures a storm.

While the whispers go in circle,

She waits at the bar, oblivious to the stares.

Waits for the fate, none in the hall think to dare…

Through the wide big doors walks the beast

The dark suit, clean shaven, hair neat…

The skin is fair, eyes are kind,

The face though has a monstrous smile.

Straight to the bar he heads towards her…

Eyes meet, the hall is quiet, the anticipation.

Climbs the air,

 Aware of stares he holds her hands.

Helping her down the high stool he waits while she gathers her stance.

Holds her waist and nudges her forward.

Pride flashes across his eyes when jealous crowd marvels

How on earth did she choose him, as her date to be

Little did they know she was the beauty … he was the beast.