By PAUL LIMA
Return to Creative Writing


She dances in the open air
of Place Ville Marie

She dances to rock rhythms
as if enraptured by a sacred spirit

Her shrill voice shrieking

LIGHTMYFIRELIGHTMYFIRELIGHTMYFIRE OHYEAH...

Her rainbow-coloured top
inching up firm flat belly

She bumps and grinds
as if drunk on electricity
Her thin arms flailing helplessly
A dervish whirling endlessly

As wolves around her
howl incessantly

 Until the music dies.

And I wonder where the evening
will disgorge her

And hope the creatures
will be kind...


Return to Creative Writing