Home » Poems » Fabiyas M V » Belly Dance

Belly Dance

Russian rhythms warm 
              the crowd up 
in the gloaming. Hairs 
              create golden 
cascades on the street. 
              Even a moralist 
doesn’t go home, enticed
              by the beauties
 in silk. Suppressed desires 
              leak through the 
moral vents. Like blue 
              snakes, the dancers 
sway on the Keralite culture 
              that always tends 
to wrap feminine body in 
              saris and churidars. 
The nude flesh fragments 
              in exotic white 
enthrall the spectators. 
              What is artistic
there turns erotic here.

First published in The Literary Hatchet.

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