Definitely Not Dirty Dancing

She is spotted
as a cheetah cub, braces, and baby fat
still cling to her body.

He has fangs and
a mullet only a feline-human monstrosity
could pull off. She desires his hair so

her fingers itch and claw in her lap.
She longs to
french braid his blood bay mane. When he needs

a headband, his hair is blinding
him, and he pauses
before her on the bench in the back hallway.

She falls in love and he gives a growl, so gentle,
this love still clings when his hair falls out;
he tells her stories of the middle ages.

Beauty in the hotel; baby in the library.
Baby crib full of books: the Hotel New Hampshire,
The Beach Club, Rose Cottage.

Could she love a person as she would love a place?
She is already on the wrong side of the cliffside.