inspired by the music of Tyehimba Jess, harmonica
and David Boykin, saxophone, that night, 1997

dips her hand in air
an unfamiliar room

licentious ether crawls
through her arm-hairs
swallows her skin

she walks inside
warm empty room barefoot

Viney walls and a drafty
sand-grassy floor invigorate
ambiance

heated leaf-scent induces her
she circles the room intoxicated

a devious night-blue slip
is all she retains
as quixotic humidity forces removal
of all else

stretches her arms like a bow
and arrow inhaling widely
crashing to the floor
shaking her head in disbelief

her hands sink
head tilts upward
neck veins pulse in thick

her head elongated jounces
vehemently splashing wheezes
as Amoon descends
in the room

ritualistic entrance of Amoon
dominates apprehension

she slowly rises
but her eyes  sunken
conquered

the room pours expansion
her brown skin swells dramatic-blue fur

soul inside soul of her grows freer
and balance...
balance
balance is the hands
that hold
the floor
of this four legged
furry
mistress to melody

praising the ground with feet-fingers
casting subservient eyes
to Amoon

She hisses as a contrasted vocal nears her

hisses to the stranger
he reaches for her
she slashes his tease
scats with speed
chasing the solo of Amoon

Night...
blue...
wind...
heat strips
hunger runs
accordion ribs pulse

chasing the solo of Amoon
solitude's solitude
confluenced emotions
reversive branching tree
Soul unfettered

In the fade crawls
back in the center
of her clothes
circles
her mark
in her pool
sighs

"Why'd you stop?"

                     - a Butterfly's opinion -