Posted: May 26, 2008 in Beauty, City, Dark, Imagery, Jazz, Life, Music, Musings, Poetry, Snippet, Urban, Women

She throws her head back and
Lets loose a mournful howl,
A throaty cry that rips
Through the smoky bar like
A taut wire being severed,
Causing every head to snap forward
In drunken appreciation of the sorrow
Issuing from a surreal mouth
Painted with lipstick and furious lyrics.
She moves and twists through a purple miasma
Of tambourines and snapping fingers and
A constant groove that spreads through the bar
Like a virulent disease as she slowly
Raises her arms to the sky.
Dancing about the stage with a mystic purpose,
She bedazzles those crowding at the edge
With the dark curls that sprout from her head,
The silver charms dangling from her neck,
The soulful and hypnotic movement of her limbs.
This savage, singing sprite illuminates
The beauty found in the haze and clouds of life,
The essence of a silhouette mourning through song.
She slowly closes her mouth,
Dropping her microphone to the ground.


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