Let There Be Dance
Find yourself
in tango’s close-embrace,
a milonguera
lost in intricate movement,
guided by the bandoneon’s
sad strains.
Never been to Buenos Aires?
Not important.
Wherever you are,
infuse your life
…with life.
Let there be dance.
Belly Dancer
She entered to applause
and piercing whistles
to the rapid drum beats
of the darbuka and dübelek
flowing black hair, olive skin
enigmatic smile
hips swaying sinuously
finger cymbals clinking
chink, chink-a chink,
chink-a chink.
Ottoman bangles gleamed
and clanked
on her outstretched arms
belly and legs moving synchronously
to the çiftetelli cadence
a swirl of intoxicating motion
reviving memories of old Pera.
Shoulders rolling
head thrown back
rivulets of sweat matted her hair
belly shimmying
ud and saz urging her on
in a rapturous dance
of supple movement.
She swept past me
a blur of veiled movements
dark cavernous eyes
mocking me
thighs and stomach undulating
the zurna wailing
finger cymbals clinking
chink, chink-a chink
chink-a chink.
As suddenly as she arrived
she exited
rose petals strewn before her
a hint of anise and lemon water
in the air
Roxelana’s daughter
a caïque gliding on the Bosphorous
in the Levantine night. {John K. Graham, jgraham50@satx.rr.com}
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