I breathe a steady ribbon of air|
towards the orange dancer;
I try to gently quench her thirst,
but her flaming passion burns.
She strips the waning wick full bare,
and I want all the more to ask her
who she frolics for, who has caught her eye,
and if 'none', she says, may I?
She fills the room with her delicate light,
and a fragrance of vanilla;
I feel her warmth as I draw near
to observe her beauty, fair.
I am gazing at her, simply mesmerised
as she tips the slim Manila.
She glows like neon against a black night;
I gasp at the breathtaking sight.
My eyes start to close as the lids become heavy;
the show now has reached the finale.
I kiss my lips together and breathe once again
in farewell to my sensual friend.
She flickers and fades, suddenly so unsteady,
she succumbs, dressed in blue, to the parley.
In grey gown she rises above the ash flakes,
her essence diffused in its wake.
By Kayla Esther
© 2015 Kayla Esther
(All rights reserved)