Renaissance

STING & CHEB MAMI - DESERT ROSE

The renaissance.  Its to be celebrated... after it is over.  The rebirth, the rejoice, the new life born, celebrated by all who don't have to endure... to go through the pain of the renaissance.  The strive to be born anew.  The exhaustion, the pain, of emerging though the birth canal.

The hair producing a half hidden face.  Always something would remain half hidden.  The bending to reveal, followed by the soft tug pulling up.  Did he notice?  Was the soft passing moment of reveal catch his eye?  Her smile was suppoed to cover her insecurity.

Did she know, his desire burning, to run his hand across her thigh.  So close, so far, To touch... to know... to feel... to anything.  Before he could, she moved.  Just a hint away, but always away.  Was it a beacon calling him forth, or a fence pushing him away.  Movements in the lands of shadow he never saw.

The rain: would it pour in a deluge, or would it refrain-holding back the gift of life.

She laughed.  Energy static shot from her lips.  Her eyes burning pools of desire,  So fierce that the retreat or advance was lost in the precious fire.  The sudden shift towards... what did it mean?  The silent delight, the silent death.  The not knowing.

So is the renaissance... forever crawling toward the light. 

Exhausting step...

followed by exhausting step...

Continued marching towards the light.