Cave Dancers

They dance around the fire,

clad in animal skins, loin cloths

and general stages of undress,

gyrating, and writhing in

uninhibited sensuality,

intent on ecstasy.

Their silhouette’s flicker on

the cave’s jagged and rough walls,

in the pulsating firelight and with

rhythmic cadence of the drums,

their bare feet stomping the dusty

ground with punctuated desire.

Through the spiraling smoke

wafting up through the night air,

their arms and legs tease with

smooth seduction, insisting on

attention and carnality. Begging

for curious caressing.

Their bodies ripe with excitement,

sweat, and the glitter of anticipation,

for the dance will have to end and

someone will have to be chosen,

taken from the hunt, to the recesses

of the cave.   

The fire will die and morning will

creep up over the ashes of the

burgeoning Spring rituals.

A champion selected, among so

many contenders, to join in body and

spirit with their selector, in the cave.

Exalted lovers, raised highest, above

all others, joined in the sacred rites,

graduated to the partnership of humanity,

blessed by the shaman to journey through

the wilderness of life, hand in hand,

and fear no indecency between them.

Traffic slowed and I hit the brakes,

“Sheesh...I’m lonely,” I thought.

Who will dance for me, select me,

and choose this path of mediocrity,

melodrama and profound nonsense?

I need to find a cave dancer.    

Image Credits

Creator: Owen Benson

Copyright: Copyright (c) Owen Benson 2016

Information extracted from IPTC Photo Metadata.