His fingers caught in the tresses of her hair
As he whirled her – high in the dance
His dark – deep set eyes held possessiveness
The intensity – of her eyes – flashed defiance.
He would not be denied
She would not be promised.
As the music lifted – his arm,
Tightened around her belted waist,
Slender – against the breadth of him.
The light – from the all-consuming fire,
Reflected lambent – upon her wilful face,
But it did not diffuse the anger there.
Dust swirled in the charged air – as the beat,
Intensified its pace – the notes hypnotic.
The deftness of their feet – traced a path,
Of pre determined destiny.
Palm to palm – the onlookers encircled the pair
Knowledge and tradition uniting their eyes
In the taming of the child.
The strings of the fiddle – pulsated,
In response to the travelling bow
Enrapturing, capturing the girl with its spell.
As the sweat emerged in silver beads,
Upon his brow – he pulled her in,
To the aroma of his manly scent
Intoxicating her senses – quickening the blood,
That flowed through the chambers of her heart,
Infusing her cheeks with a blush of softness.
His rough hands – instinctual – felt the burning passion,
That mirrored his bodies own needs and desires.
Detecting the change – he halted – in his step
And met the full force of a woman’s eyes.
Coquettish – she loosened the red cotton twill,
He wore knotted about his neck – tantalisingly,
Feeling its coarseness – running through her,
Soft velvety fingertips. She was his.
The music slowed – became still – as the evening’s breath.
In one body – the onlookers retreated to their beds,
As the embers shifted and settled – within the dying fire.