chain of coins chiming on swiveling hips

red-dyed palms tickling the breeze

apricots peeking from behind a tight blouse, and a round navel tempting to kiss

she is a maiden petite and pretty, flaxen skin and glinting dark eyes

a seductive witch, but not mine.

she is her own world, her own master and slave

not ready to yield, not to be owned by any man or woman

it frustrates me to think she isn't mine

drowning in sweet sorrow, i chug down a glass of wine.