The Art of Attraction

I heard it said once That attractive to an artist Does not mean "pretty" In the average sense But more something that Is interesting to look at And makes you want to Keep looking To him, I can look for hours And want to keep looking He is the color burnt umber Like coffee and cream And purest black ink Not blue-black, or brown, But the undiluted purity Of a spilled ink-pot Shaped by the delicate curve Of a calligraphy brush Into perfectly, haphazardly Beautiful curls, erratic and Bold And his eyes Those eyes Like coffee, taken Without cream or sugar But turned amber by sunlight And sweetened by laughter Making what might have been Intimidating, with their darkly Charcoaled outline that Marks them as Arab Instead as sweetly inviting As the warm half-light of dusk And so addictive I've been looking for hours And I want to keep looking