from the cabaret,
Cafe du Monde
And I think - why not?
Just one last dance
with life, the emerald-eyed,
before retiring from the floor
where other couples glide.
My tango partner
clasps my spine
ambiguously tight;
we sweep through onyx halls
in soft, kaleidoscopic light.
Like larks we swoop
towards new dawns
with skies of rose and flame,
until my limbs begin to ache
as in an iron frame.
And now I glimpse
my partner's face -
his profile aquiline -
the gaze from soulless
topaz eyes now turned
full on his prey:
'Don't you recognise
your fate?'
I hear the stranger say...
I think -
why not?
Just one
last dance,
before he
spirits
me
away...
Danse Macabre
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103051900698
Свидетельство о публикации №103051900698
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