Nightly, lightly the dance continues, echoes on
Lightning quick, chancing eternity, just for possibly.
Slightly, sprightly, another stab at plausibly;
Counterstroke, counterpoint, turning, spinning like a boson.
Each thrust and parry of words halts hearts, as a great oak sawn.
Each singular step executed sensibly,
Not even one footfall is mistaken, so flexibly,
Serpentine ever, to the sound of virgo’s song.
Lightning quick, chancing eternity, just for possibly.
Slightly, sprightly, another stab at plausibly;
Counterstroke, counterpoint, turning, spinning like a boson.
Each thrust and parry of words halts hearts, as a great oak sawn.
Each singular step executed sensibly,
Not even one footfall is mistaken, so flexibly,
Serpentine ever, to the sound of virgo’s song.
Puritanical rhapsody burns the planet,
Trembling, erotically, with each step, a new tone.
Drawing now ever closer to earliest September,
Scarlet arils fall, of lustful pomegranate,
Tempting blank, bared flesh, frozen, erect, turned to stone,
Hardened and hallowed, and kissed with sunlight’s searing ember.
