The Snake that Dances

I love to watch, while you are lazing,

Your skin. It iridesces

Like silk or satin, smoothly-glazing

The light that it caresses.

Under your tresses dark and deep

Where acrid perfumes drown,

A fragrant sea whose breakers sweep

In mazes blue or brown,

My soul, a ship, to the attraction

Of breezes that bedizen

Its swelling canvas, clears for action

And seeks a far horizon.

Your eyes where nothing can be seen

Either of sweet or bitter

But gold and iron mix their sheen,

Seem frosty gems that glitter.

To see you rhythmically advancing

Seems to my fancy fond

As if it were a serpent dancing

Waved by the charmer's wand.

Under the languorous moods that weigh it,

Your childish head bows down:

Like a young elephant's you sway it

With motions soft as down.

Your body leans upon the hips

Like a fine ship that Iaves

Its hull from side to side, and dips

Its yards into the waves.

When, as by glaciers ground, the spate

Swells hissing from beneath,

The water of your mouth, elate,

Rises between your teeth —

It seems some old Bohemian vintage

Triumphant, fierce, and tart,

A liquid heaven that showers a mintage

Of stars across my heart.