Fable

You sneak out of aqua shells &
I think I see you smile at me...
I might have blinked.
I might have dreamed...
This isn't your mundane belly dance,
This isn't about a snake charm;
This is about falling, like raindrops,
Into a whirlwind,
Into the thunders of love.
I am metaphor, always, plucking
My harp or swaying my arms to the
Songs of spinning sirens.
Fortune resents the gales of this:
How possession never has justification!
& along that hue,
Never speaks w/ a rift or vocation...
I am metaphor!
Even if I summoned you w/
The coiling of my waist & hips,
The slow relaxing of my fingertips,
The conscious bowing of my bones
Onto these cool tiles
Where I sweat in handling just
The instrument of imagination,
Would it still be a fable?