marvellous piece Bunny. G;lad I got to read it. Thoroughly enjoyable
Cheers,
Frank
>>Dancing at Madam Organs
>>
>>She dances for him at the bar,
>>smooth gleam of breasts
>>symmetric through the neckline
>>of her dress, slim and laughing,
>>not at him but at the whole damn world.
>>Her dance, a carnival, a fiesta
>>launched on cheap red wine.
>>Her body so fine, it makes the other men
>>ache for just one night, or an hour
>>or a moment when they might touch
>>their hips to hers.
>>And the cinnamon boy dances too,
>>his lean thighs and pelvis grind,
>>palms sway, stroking the outline
>>of the girl’s smoke-haze aura.
>>Behind them, the sax player,
>>all gold and shine charms
>>his way through the bar,
>>trailing notes so sweet
>>they could sugar your heart,
>>and Camille grinds out Marley,
>>stretching the words
>>til they fall to the floor, a lament
>>to a woman’s tears, and the girl
>>in the black dress dances closer
>>to the cinnamon boy, her hips
>>graze his just long enough to feel
>>the need, and the dance is no longer
>>a dance, but a prelude to something else.
>>She knows he just wants to get his hands
>>on the smooth gleam, and the throb of the sax
>>through her breastbone, the way
>>the boy’s slides the air through his fingers
>>makes her need the smooth gleam too.
>>
>>
>>
>>Bunny
>>"Sometimes a poem about a fish is just that - a poem about a fish."
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