She lay there under the brittle lights
Laughing her alluring laugh
And we ran to her escaping the sands that pricked our skin
Her cooling shades drew us into the depths of a world
We would not normally enter.
We flirted with her lies
Embraced her
Knowing she was brazen to make love to all who came in.
We gave ourselves permission to dip our toes into the swirling waters of a forbidden river.
She was rare, she was beautiful, talented,
Brilliant even.
She showed us how high she could jump,
How rare her lithe body was as she swung from high up
And danced into the singing lights of misty fountains.
We came back to our hotel-rooms and dreamed of her.
On the dusty desert road
We saw her tethered to the cart
Belonging to the Master of Ceremonies.
Why had we thought she was Helen?
Adding your comment: