Jazz
Dancing, Holding, Moving slowly.
The Lights are low, the air is filled with a mix of perfumes, spiced tomatoes and cigarette.
The chandelier is filled, wobbly-lit candles. The flicker and shake, casting intimate shadowy couples around the room.
Tables surround the glossy floor. They have red and white cloths and one lone large candle stuck into the neck of an old wine bottle. The tables are small, set only for two.
In a dim corner,on stage a tall dark skinned man holds his sax like his baby. The band is good putting heart into their sultry cords..
They sway like I do.
Moving gliding, loving the warmth and smell of him. I love being held by his warmth his scent. It is different when I am closer. Spicy and deep. Just his smell sends slow shivers down my back.
I am close enough to feel each breath-- his heart beat. I bury my nose in the warmth of his neck. He chuckles, softly, deep, knowing.
I feel his laugh from chest to thighs. I laugh a sigh. He slides his hand lower to the small of my back, pulling me closer. We both remember. My face in his neck, his in my hair. The song changes and we sway slower closer our feet barely moving. Anticapation.
Thanks for sharing, Darling Jen. you know I always enjoy your work. :) I liked the sultry feel of this one. I think I want complete sentences, like: 'We are dancing,holding, moving...' and 'The chandalier is filled with wobbly-lit candles.' I also wonder if the word 'warmth' becomes repetitive. We have 'warmth and smell of him.' 'held by his warmth' and 'the warmth of his neck.' close together in this poem. There could be some stronger adjectives to use.
ReplyDeleteI like 'I feel his laugh from chest to thighs.' and 'perfume, spiced tomatoes, and cigarette' because it is not expected. I would like more of those surprising moments. :) Thanks again for sharing. It is a lovely poem.
M.