To the ground falls another vivid scarf
With each undulation
Veils of every hue tease the senses of those who watch.
Finger cymbals dance
Mirroring the motion of her hips
Creating music to the tapping of her feet.
In the firelight
The coal-dark hair shimmers
Falling in waist-length waves that swirl as she spins.
Madame Gypsy floats upon a cloud
Evoking sinful thoughts of passion and sensuality
Calling to the heavens with each breathless note she sings.
The wagon train travels into the sun
On a luminous autumn day
One by one each person steps into her wagon.
Shadows and images swirl within a sphere of crystal
Slowly they become clear
Likenesses of what has yet to come appear within the haze of shades.
If you grace her palm with silver
She'll read yours
Divulge to you what lies beyond.
Will I live forever?
Will I ever fall in love?
Will my life be full of joy?
To these questions there are no answers
All that can be foretold
Is what the stars are willing to surrender.
With a pass of the hand
And a twinkle in her eye
She'll tell a good tale.
But was it what you wanted to hear?
Was her word worth your coin?
©KinkyScreams 2006
