The Dance

Slip it on, shrug it off then, slip it on again;
You pull my scarf and I'll pull your tie,
We'll go round and round in a cosmic dance as ancient as time,
And stop only to catch our breath.

When the Sun slips down the West,
Dangling our legs into nothingness let's pretend to dive,
Into everything unknown and known,
And fall into a field of blood red poppies.

Do you feel it too?
The coiling in the pit of the stomach?
As I fall and then, rise and slither this one last time,
I feel your breath on my neck like a talisman of desire.

I fall with my hands spread wide still holding on to your tie.
Your hands still clutching my scarf whirls me around in the last dance.
We circle around each other like the Moon and the Earth,
One last time, before slipping into nothingness.

The image is a painting by Renoir