Wearing Words

Your black and white lines

beckon me to step inside.

Barefoot and stocking less,

feeling the folds of those

smooth syllables shimmy

over the hips.

Snug line,

crests and trough,

they traverse the heart.

I am ravished by fire

that consumes

and does not



Santa Anna winds

tear through the hot

marrow of my bones.

I embody the code

of every woman

any man has ever loved.

Through each verse

their words reach

through time

to be reborn

on my lips.


Bacio il mio cuore

 Con le tue parole,

Come ho danza tra le line.


© M.G. Iannucci 2017

Photo: Print of Flamenco Dancer from original by Suzana Zarate

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