(inspired by Madrid, Spain– February 2016)



After copas of sangria,
we watch the sanguine dress spin
to the guitarist’s touch–
Carnal, under fingers that burn fire
with each plea for forgiveness.

Eyes, green like olives,
savor the sight,
feasting on black heels
striking wood, polished against polished
that shine like sweat
above bright lipstick that moves
with each step, each twist
and twirl to the tune
of a lover’s pain
on a lover’s night
meant for caressing skin between seams
under the floor lights.


© Rebecca Goes Rendezvous, 2019

4 thoughts on “Flamenco (poem)

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