The Dance

Beautiful, sensual poeming – delicately subtle
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Sometimes Stellar Storyteller

They move, entwined,

They beat as one,

Choreographed yet freed.

Their breath conjoins,

Their eyes arrest,

And diverted souls bleed.

Their hunger mute,

Their need held close

An incendiary glance.

Their hands intense,

Their souls attached,

But today they only dance.

Inspired by this painting by Leonid Afremov that hangs on my wall at home.

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