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!!!