Fluid With Legs
Toni, sheathed in black with silver fringes,
wiggles alone on the dance floor to jazz
sounds blaring...
Her eyes are closed; her long lashes are shades
shutting out the night.
The music massages her body as she humms
softy, becomes the willowy song.
She wraps her long bare arms around her
slender body; she ignores the intrussive hands of
someone wanting to be a part of her grove.
Toni slow drags, then spins in between the melody
of the trumpet's 'Something Cool' her stilted heels click.
She throws her head back, arms reach to enfold the notes
of the saxophone.
She pivots on her toes, like some Prima dona, silver
fringes sparkle like lightening bugs.
Everyone chase her with their eyes, caught when she stops
with the last blast of the horn.
She is fluid, luquid shimmer
disquised in Sepia,
stepping out on her long, long legs.
Cynthia
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