Strange Attraction

There is a strange attraction
in the imperfection of her smile
she turns to her advantage.
She has a crooked tooth from
a childhood incident when
her mother slapped her face.
Now, when she is amused
she quirks her lips and dips
her head to hide a scar
that no-one else can see.
Her hair cascades and forms
a demi-veil through which
she peeps and I say
’I see you’ to make her
smile the more. She crinkles
up her nose and the line
that defines a winsome cheek
is broken by a dimple
in the dawn pink curvature
of skin. I wish to kiss
the crease above her chin
and work my way to where
she holds her pain in shy
denial of the beauty
that is all the more for being
understated. She has no need
for make-up, for further
barriers against the world,
when all I want is plain
to see in her smile’s fragility.