Wild Things

and she danced for me like
pagans cavorting under the full moon,
bodies painted in rust coloured hues;
undulating forms writhing to a hidden
beat as old as nature herself,
garnished with little more
than a smile and a promise
of wild nights of tempestuous abandon,
at one with mother earth;
worshipping at the gates of
carnal knowledge.

May 6, 1999

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