Post by DavidMc on Sept 17, 2006 11:48:29 GMT -6
Woman Of The Afternoon
Perfume rises from the Garden,
And spins a halo around her room.
Scented flowers for her demeanor.
The Clock on the mantel strikes four.
Her lover appears through the door.
She says:
"For you, I have dressed as a bride.
My desire is to burn you inside."
She rises to take his caress,
Cascading ripples through her
Diaphanous dress.
In the languid heat
Of the afternoon,
Their love melts all
The Stars and the Moon
And the sensual
Kiss of the light, sparks a vision in
The eyes of the Groom,
Of shuffling feet
In eternal procession, locked forever,
In a secret dimension of temptation
Redemption and sin,
And the cries and
The songs from the street calling the Woman
That he came to meet.
Guapa Maria! guapa, guapa Maria.
Perfume rises from the Garden,
And spins a halo around her room.
Scented flowers for her demeanor.
The Clock on the mantel strikes four.
Her lover appears through the door.
She says:
"For you, I have dressed as a bride.
My desire is to burn you inside."
She rises to take his caress,
Cascading ripples through her
Diaphanous dress.
In the languid heat
Of the afternoon,
Their love melts all
The Stars and the Moon
And the sensual
Kiss of the light, sparks a vision in
The eyes of the Groom,
Of shuffling feet
In eternal procession, locked forever,
In a secret dimension of temptation
Redemption and sin,
And the cries and
The songs from the street calling the Woman
That he came to meet.
Guapa Maria! guapa, guapa Maria.
