Your Spanish Nights

I swear I've glimpsed
your burnt orange skin
far too many times,
when there was an absence
of sun gazes-

and it was only the Navalero
moon that burned any
desirous romance.

The moon is the one
I want to play to,
so you are called
with nothing other than
wide-eyed rustic
touches
of big blue mouths,
like huapangueras

strummed by unclear
fingers

that pour me into you.

For you don't need
deep saffron skies
to curve your dances
into the dawns and dusks,

you already have
dark rose lips,
that taste less of wine
and more of
passion's song and
Paso dobles

where your one step
is intermixed with my
stretching arms,

striving to cling to your
ongoing body of
riverine
arias....

leaving me with openings
to everything
your heart crafts in
Spanish deserts
and cities that croon

to be un amante.

* Navalero [city in Spain]
* Paso doble [quick, one-step dance]
* Huapangueras [Mexican-like guitars/use rhythmical strumming pattern]
* un amante [a lover]

Written 7/9/2012 at 3:01 pm