Cyberdance, May 2002 by Edea Baldwin

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Sweet trickster,
your honey-tongue
reaches into my soul
flicking away
deeply rooted dryness.
You've lured me
into a dream dance;
like a dervish
I whirl, suspended
on the tips of
your virtual fingers.

You push me roughly away,
then gently pull me back
into your arms.
Your lead can be
tricky to follow,
but I am mesmerized,
stunned in the light of
your invisible blue eyes,
praying the dance
will never end.