Gitana
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 …
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 …
