She is caught in the throb of a drum.
Tippling from hide-brimmed stem.
Down lineal veins to ancestral core.
Opening out in her supple tan.
Limbs like fresh foliage in the sun.
See how entangled in the magic.
Maze of music.
In trance she treads the intricate.
Pattern rippling crest after crest.
To meet the green clouds of the forest.
Tremulous beats wake trenchant.
In her heart a descant.
Tingling quick to her finger tips.
And toes virginal habits long.
Too atrophied for pen or tongue.
Could I, early sequester’d from my tribe.
Free a lead-tether’d scribe.
I should answer her communal call.
Lose myself in her warm cares.
Intervolving earth, sky and skin.
PLEASE VOTE FOR ME
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