The Dance of the SoulMate Kiss
Andalusian with poet's fire
touched the streams of 'lectric wire
royal sun of lion's sire
became the moon's full admirer
consuming, she, with Spain's desire
waters for lover's to quench their pyre
waters for lover's to quench their pyre
stretching taut, her o d' lure
ever calling... hands demure
ever calling... hands demure
endlessly wantingly, he and her
where
time breathes faster
on a moving clock
and bodies in orbits
they ache to lock
forever to touch
so joyous, they meet
so joyous, they meet
longing to stay
in movements that fleet
in movements that fleet
as the kiss of their lips
is over too quick
like the last grasping sigh
of the tail fingertip
is over too quick
like the last grasping sigh
of the tail fingertip
they're opposite angles
where life is the dark
and light is the hand
that paints creative art
as strokes of agony
color them apart
they're the shadows that dance
in the cosmic street
kaleidoscope lovers
romancing with planet feet
they're atomic hearts... divided by time
duende, the angel... and their muse, the rhyme
duende, the angel... and their muse, the rhyme
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