Friday, March 09, 2007

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Two Dresses - posted by Noble Collins This dress is in mourning, the black dress, and you do not come to me now out of respect, Manuel. But I hear you. You are playing the Flamenco in a cantina where cantina girls dance. You are drinking tequila and laughing while the chickens fight. Yes, I hear you still. But I must wear the black dress, the one that mourns, and I will also mourn, and I will also yearn. Yearn to be played like your guitar, like the strings which vibrate to your touch, sweet music dancing inside me, while my heart beats like the castanet. Even now, my heart wears the red dress. I wear roses in my hair and not the silver combs. I send the maids away, and dance the Flamenco with my mirror. But I must wear the other one for a while, the black one that mourns, until the music plays again.

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