Dancing With the Angel
Dancing with the angel; winding
Like an eel and a geisha girl.
Her hips vibrating like a dog drying its wetting hairs.
Will she glue herself into my waiting hands?
Yes she does, she does it in style:
Her right foot finds a place between my feet,
Her head dangling on me like banana bunch,
Her hands cuddling my neck like a baby in its flannel.
Oh, she parts again like an arrow parting the bow.
What could I have done? What is the irritation?
No, she smiles, stretching out her hands like an eagle wafting in the air;
Her right grips my left as she comes closer, she will not glue again;
Flinging me out like a school girl flinging her paper plane into the air.
Wow! She bows like a zero's cord, her long hairs carpeting the ground.
Suddenly she bounces back like a bent shrub regaining its old position;
Her right now on my left shoulder, her left belting my waist about,
Her lips on my cheek, her hips tangential to mine.
A round of applause!!!
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