A Dance that Glimmers and Glares

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Lashes do fan,

Do fan fan da flamico style,

How they flicker and flirt,

like wings flapping against your cheek

giving teases of a gentile sort.

Just to fan fan away like a tango

Skirt.

Flashing leg, I mean hazelnut eyes.

Daring you to embrace,

But your arms are lost to the hairs that fall to a

Blink.

I mean to the brink of a night where the stars are saying

Fly fly, nod off stamp those lashes down.

And like a broom they wait.

Bristles forgotten on the floor.

Gathering nights dust.

Like the morning-after mascara of your clumping disgrace.

Twitching only to remember the cha cha-ing of your

Seductive fluttering legs,

I mean eyelashes.

Which started this mess.

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