Day 8

      Moving in a motion m’raculous, the music w’thin their minds uttering ancience pure in its expressive flame ‘n formless order, finding fire’s flitferocious honesty in sinew’s charged with voiceless verse of silent song, the dancers danced. A trio-troupe transmogrified via tumblestretchfall, reconfigurereaching jinglejangle-jointed wrists – a-ringed ‘n rhythmrapture-ridden – wrought in taut ‘n trying trancefigureful, flexibilithe, lustsome posture passing (palms prostrate; long fingers flexed against the dirtsand-spattered stone) in contortioned controlled – their hips did push toward the Aten-bearing sky. Jewelled gesticundulation, draped in semi-precious stone. Jew’llry laden, draped gesticulation undulates. Poses poised in semi-circle, arching, awe-met perches, held – an inverse Nut in triplicated, breast-bare, brazen life. The shimmershine of sweat shed through their painted, perfumed canvas caught the glist’ning glare of Horus ‘fore it soaked the linen veil that cloaked the contour-lines that led below their naveled peaks ‘n met between their thighs. Ankles adorned below their flexing, angled knees – their feet stood fast ‘n firm, the primate-palms repurposed.
      She watched the tassletumbling locks upon the middle woman’s head. Her hand: it tentatively touched her own about her ear, the storied-strands that ‘scaped the makeshift grooming wrapping ‘round the wisps of breeze that broke against the hazeheat, heady o’er the crowds – her fingers felt for these ‘n drew them in.

Image creditOn Luxor

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