Your danseuse mirth
flowed like a rivulet
sifting past me like a hollow
weightless vapor
I traced your sky
only to find innuendos
of lonely bruises
I bask under your
dome of stained-glass lights,
assiduously waiting
for the downpour perched
on your hidden corners
And whilst its away
let us revel and galvanize
in humble eternities
Norman Santos
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blithe/
