A goblin, imp, a dervish plays
among moving curtains, behind that veil;
grinning, winking, stickerly, fey,
thumps my shoulder blade time and again.
Sometimes cloudy vapour rises,
hovers up - above - and sways,
likes to drop a headache, haze
and hang there just above my brows.
Now and again my elbow jolts,
a finger flicks and points this way
along a rounded, hard-edged nail.
Cavort and dance, laughing like rain,
the veil uplifts and vapour flies;
two bright eyes shine out with fire.
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