You moved me out of my enclosure

into the white space madness of your warning

into a field of poppies filled with rattlesnake shakes

I love your slim delights

the ornaments of your eyes

you are the opal gem to my jade Orient

come to nourish me in your bellydance hip~hop

Bollywood smile

dazed into the havoc of your slim slides up a pole

with ankle bells screaming unusual arias

and odes to all the women aflame who've been seared

by the curves of your delectable shoulders

dipped in creams and oils for the lips

jasmine

myrrh

a pure longing along the edge of a straightwire bluebird

you are convoluted contortions in the beats of drums

and the cry of lutes

You stepped out of your golden skirts and belt of serpents

to stretch me out of my den

and whisipered of your journey through the belly of strange worlds

spiced to perfection

you are a meal in and of itself

with your decadent destinations singing the curve of my hips and thighs

into the silver bangles caressing your arms

You listen to my stories with an avid glaze

a shine deep in the pores of golden Pandoras who slipped

through the irony of that intricate box

to scratch the towers to pieces until Goldilocks laughed

and let her braids fall to the Asiatic enchantment

of cherries jubilee sweetening your lips

I gave you my digits and took you for a ride along the highways

and the forests

your style a swarm of honeybees

bumping up against my thighs

your hair and inky rainfall dreaming through my golden locks

fingertips so lady sweet playing notes across my ribs

delight by the stories etched into each curve of bone

We debate the hours into a mold of giggles

without conclusions

my complexion ruby rich in the soprano's throat divines

and you said, "let's make a movie"

and I tell you you are incorrigable

delighted by the decadent nuances of your mind

You tell me I am your orchard

that my heart tastes of mullberries and cotton candy

that my mind feels like earth on a spring day

that my soul tastes like Eve when the One

pulled her from the man's side

into an uncertain world without a woman's reason;

you give me

me

on platters of East Indian delights

your hips winding through the sunlight

in the arbor of the kitchenette

and you say how much you love the ink curlicues on my papyrus

how you delight in the scent of carnations through my hair

you tell me you love every aspect from which I was fashioned

as we snuggle deep into the moments

when men are not about

when only women ride the world

in those cherished

brazen hours

copyright:2008victoriaseleneskyedeme