of course i should have

I catch glimpses of that long since diminished ritual,
by being whisked away slowly
on the wings of pagan poetry.

The scent that lingers is not that of nostalgia,
but rather that of wine, and of roses, and the dried leaves
hit by rain drops…..but stopping,
before my heart both breaks and mends, I wonder
Should I have asked her for that dance?

I remember being around the fire
watching Salome shed the seventh seal
without blushing,
and then numbing the ambiance
with her utterance,...that she
liked watching us.

I wonder still,
How did i ever awake from that trance?

Ive witnessed my last breathe
confess itself
to the remembrance
of her twirling on the hillside
under the moonlight.

I felt the delight of the wet grass
caressing her feet,
and the laughter of the fall breeze
as it brushed along her cheek.

And I wonder,
How did she speak sonnets in her glance?

I conjure myself humbled
before the sublime pedestal
of artifacts
that her impact
has imparted upon the sacred moments
found fleeting between alliterations
and the awaiting enchantment,
of asking for that dance again.