How a woman gets a man

Not the dress, not the curve, not the shine of her hair,
Not the practiced perfection hanging in the air.
It’s the way the world dims when her message lands,
Threads go quiet, the scroll slips from my hands.

It’s how my thoughts line up, suddenly still,
No urge to escape, no restless will.
The noise goes quiet, the exits disappear,
Because somehow right now is enough right here.

She doesn’t demand it, doesn’t pull or command,
She just holds my attention without lifting a hand.
A look, a rhythm, the pace of her mind,
And wandering focus gets gently confined.

I don’t check the room, I don’t drift away,
I don’t plan the next moment or count the delay.
She makes me stay, not by force, not by charm,
But by making presence feel safe, calm, warm.

It’s the rarest kind of gravity I know:
Not pulling me closer, but stopping the go.
The way she keeps me exactly where I am,
Fully here, fully still
That’s how she can.