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Gitana

4/5/2014

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Gitana

Picture
Red fired flamenco
Hot chilli’s crack on iron skillet
Heels stamp their mark
Duende passes through us

I’ve been scratched
Marked by the spirit
Singing it into us
From beyond the edge of everything

She cries out my name
My pushka, my pistol
Work it, heat it
Bring it, become it

Black laced fans
With golden shimmer
Shake and flicker
My beloved Gitana

My Gitana, Antionetta
Who’s skin like cured leather
Sweats sweet flowers
Casts webs of power

Cigarette’s smoke
Wine from the mountain
In goat skin bladders
That lay all about us

The star of Venus
Your secret witness
In the place
Of silent forgiveness

The roads your alter
Magdalene’s daughter
Trinkets and treasures
Of loves hidden pleasures

Fortune and fate
On hand and palm
Crossed on silvers
Cunning charm

She moves and sways
Hips like snakes
That kicks the dust
Into long forgotten days

Her fingers of lace
That hides sharpened blades
That holds the blood
Of many men of late

The caravan moves on
Everything has gone
Just marks in sand
Into the other land

My love, my life
Beautiful night
I hold you near
In memories fallen tear

The cards been laid
As hunger fades
And all that’s left
Is the crumbling hand of fate

My beautiful Gitana
Who walks always with me
And sings the doves
To sleep …

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