Tuxedo Poem by Midnight Clarity

Come to the junction or the park
all dressed up with satin at the waist;
a gleaming spark of diamond
(is it paste?) just flirting at the wrist
Patent leather shoes that promise tangos
perhaps a foxtrot or a waltz;
the glowing, pleated, shirt front
conjures up the thought, the taste,
of rich red wine and kisses on
the fingertips, mere brush of lips
a promise of seduction later;
linked arms, linked futures
bound together like the
complicated knotting of
the tie around the throat, deep
black, like night, just as
inviting in its silky sheen,
echoing the drape, the fall,
the fine hand of fabric woven,
cut, assembled in a gorgeous flow
of formal presentation; such a feast
for eyes, for dreamers, appetites are
whetted, moist eyes shine with
admiration and desire; maidens swoon
while matrons catch their breath
as memory sweeps them in a dip
a swirl and twirl under the moonlight
gleaming on his black and white, so
elegant, so fitted to his form, the endearing
luscious sight, a man in his tuxedo.