The Bellydance
SONG OF SONGS 7:2 Your navel is a rounded goblet that never lacks a blended wine.Your waist is a mound of wheat encircled by lilies.
THE BELLYDANCE
A performance for one - the dance of love.
Her supple waist; he never knew she could.
His eyes like a mesmerized snake, his dove —
She gyrates left and right - she’s really good.
The darkling wine on lips — a sparkling feast.
Such contrast with taut lily-flesh; no sin.
The draw to pull her close unto his breast.
No danger here — her palms soft-wave him in.
The naivety sweet — her navel’s gold.
His hands encircle hips - he reels her close.
The butterfly goblet — his tongue is bold.
Scent’s aphrodisiacal — and time has froze.
The bellyache of loss should two break up.
O rather drink the everlasting cup!
7/16/2019
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