She mocked poetry with her hips
Her art was an enthralling heresy
A fiery Fennec in fair fitting velvet
She glides like a dice on levelled ice
Swift, sleek, the twist was exquisite
The turn was nirvana sculpt in flesh
A rhyme unspoken, an aesthetic elixir
The beauty was perfection on steroids
Holy Book screaming: this is forbidden!
Yet the performance was my baptism
A pious orgasm; a slick, sexy, sacrilege
The pleasure was in its very appreciation
Applause, she bows; kisses, and she waves
But may her face remain behind the veil!
Dhee Sylvester – Nigeria