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Flamenco.

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  • Flamenco.




    An old guitar, scuffed with age
    Toned by a hundred melodies
    Work torn fingers reach for the strings
    He begins to play
    Monotone of memories, rising
    ~
    Base notes, heavy with sadness
    climb and fall in the cigarette haze
    Heat, sweat and circling flies
    Old men nod their understanding
    Over glasses of raw red wine
    ~
    She enters from the small curtains
    Strong of thigh, broad hipped, high breasted
    Gypsy eyed. Scornful of any approach
    Sensuality untamed, untameable
    I am woman,
    ~
    Single tap of steel on stone
    Joined by a counterpoint
    Of knuckle beats on table boards
    Fevered eyes, leaking tears
    Dribble lust on stubble chins
    Recalling dead erections
    ~
    Twisting faster now
    Arms extended she dances
    To orgasmic clapping
    Her dress lifting, a flash of red underskirt
    It is over, she pauses
    Then dismissing us with a toss of her head
    and vanishes into memory.
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