Gossamer Mirage
She appeared from the desert,
a mirage in gossamer white,
gliding into his tent,
her dark eyes,
blazing right through his.
Caught unaware,
he stumbled back,
into his hammock,
mesmerized.
As she moved closer,
her grace flowed
as she slid upon him,
summoning his response,
as a shaman
summons a spirit.
He clung to her,
as she worked her magic,
over and over,
while the hammock rocked
to a sensual rhythm,
‘til everything went black.
As slowly he came to,
naked and sweating,
he wondered,
was she real,
or just a gossamer mirage,
in the rippling heat.
Copyright © Ian Kilfoil | Year Posted 2011
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