(For Valerie)

I am walking; waking
from a self-imposed stupor,
pulling myself from daydreams,
clearing the blur from my gaze;
my attention caught by a magic
more real than what is in my head.

So, I stop to watch Zamara
as she swirls & shimmers
across the floor. In a dream-like
flourish she hypnotizes
in bold colors,
bright feathers, glittering
masks and the glint
of silver as she unsheathes
her knives.

She shifts and morphs
around the room, dancing
in tandem with her past lives -
as they shadow her movements;
whirling dervish, belly dancer
harem dancer, go-go girl,
flapper chic, Geisha, chorus
girl, ferocious warrior dancer,
knife eater, fire breather,
Dragon Lady, gypsy harlot.

I watch men with their eyes
glued to her every move;
& who wouldn’t want
a few feather’s in the bedroom
to accompany the sway
of sensual hips, & to soften
what can only be
called a sweet demise?

For you do not want to anger
a goddess of the martial arts
- it is sure to smart;
even passion has its price!

12/14/2012

Author's Note: I wrote this for my friend Valerie who is going to do some interpretive dance to this at my next feature. It should be fun! Can't wait. :-D

Posted on 12/14/2012
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