The Dancers

A dozy harlot entrapped me

In her dance, with her red lips.

Singing sonnets in her speech

Between these words, she summons me.

Her gaze, she carries with a smirk

And lets me lose my mind so slightly

Every time she rests her eyes,

I feel the light inside me dying.

What must I do to stop this ache?

I'm reaching toward her with both hands.

I'm screaming for the antidote,

another wink, another dance.