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