Around the party she stalks my steps
Like some sleek lioness on the East African veldt
Closing ever so slowly,
She uses the wind on grass ebb and flow of
Tight clustered dancers to mask her subtle encroachment on the tall potted plant where I stand.
It was left by the party set up crew to add a “touch of class” to this scandalously earthy affair, but for me it is a hunter’s blind where I can observe and study.
She masks her progress well,
But I see it all, as I wait, motionless except for the slow
Sip…sip my lips and tongue perform on the rim of a vaguely fruit-flavored virgin drink.
The natural intoxicant of adrenaline surpasses any manmade, sense-dulling beverage and
A hunter must remain sharp.
So I see it all
The slight hip twist she uses to get by an over amorous admirer, a seemingly accidental elbow from her small but obviously firm right arm pushing him into the punch bowl. The bare teeth grin caused by his scramble for the men’s room to clean red stained pants.
A fool forgets a lioness’ fangs I could have said to his back. But I didn’t. I was busy.
My nostrils flare as I catch her perfume’s scent.
I show teeth in a smile as my head snaps up sharply, tossing my dreadlocked mane and letting her know I too am bred for the hunt.
Time to strike. I move toward her and extend a hand, taking her slender mahogany-shaded hand
The oil sheen glistens on her close-cropped hair, smooth on her scalp like a velvet crown.
I see it all
We move to the dance floor and carve a kingdom of our own among those already writhing there.
I watch a trickle of sweat which in swimming down her unclad upper back must and will tickle all the way to the base of her cloth hidden spine.
Our courtship ritual slash semi duel of a dance is the determining factor in
Who conquers whom?
The wind on grass ebb and flow hiding and exposing
Until we step off the floor
Confident in our ability to re-conquer it at any time.
But now the ritual of hunter and prey has ended.
The winner displays the trophy.
originally posted on The Yahoo Contributor Network