The dance

The black-ship planked floor with iron nails,
the sky up there, yet here with sun
on every nail head to light my rendezvous
with you. …i tramped the perpetual
journey wearing the rain-proof cloth, shoulders
back, hastened forth to the dance
the one special dance with you, my love; i have
no wooden chair, no philosophy, just
the goods shoes and hat. …my hand hooks
around your waist enclosing the music,
the drummer beats the skin, silences the down
hearted doubters sitting in cigarette ash
in shadowed corners. …our bodies contort, rapid
and smooth, you move against me, i
love the push of you; limbs passing safely out of
flames, whole and wanting more. …

Copyright © 10/15/2015 lance sheridan®


This entry was posted in Poetry.

2 comments on “The dance

  1. alive with wood and clicks -l ovely

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