The Nude Terpsichore

It was on a lunar shroud day, I thought to move

"Why?" Asked that revolting deformed man

Crawling gradually gripping his peeling skin he again asked "Why?"

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I was un hung, my smooth hair looked like a bundle of dark fleece of a sheep

I tuned in the traditional music

The ringers in my feet I moved in that roadway to tophet

The monstrous agonizing man with puncturing eyes –

"Stop", he said

He looked on my bare soma

"You are sexy, don't move, that is damnation", he grinned

I moved, I saw, he had no lips

However he talked

His terrible eyes had a puzzling patch of the brilliant mix of a stream

stroking his neck area

I moved; the rhythms of music talked a thousand implicit words

He said –

"I like your naked corse, the sweat exotic

Stop, I need to have intercourse"

I moved; the beats of Kajiranga resounded

Grinning I sang to him

"Have intercourse while I move

The obscuration will be over soon, so will be my move"

So have intercourse while I move"

He strolled towards me –

Peacefully, his taps mixed with the spiritualist rhythms of my ringers

Twenty each on my feet, forty chimes

Coarse fingers wiping his face he sprung on me

I moved, as he sprinkled dilute on my tears raging my eyes

"He cherished your eyes, didn't he?" the revolting man inquired

"Indeed, he did however I adored you, now you are dead and revolting, how would I have intercourse?"

I moved, he had intercourse

the chimes on my feet –

he shredded them

He lifted me in his arms

Whispering in my ears that terrible man said "He adored your eyes, didn't he?"

I answered "He has my portrayals of bare eyes, I didn't have kohl, it was my dull eyes that he cherished"

The revolting dead man left holding his peeling skin–

I stood bare on that parkway where we had intercourse

Ringers in my feet –

I moved my way, to discover him the person who adored my eyes