We dance in the wind,
And follow the steps of the desert’s shifting sands.
The moonlight caresses our bodies,
While ancient spirits invoke our souls.
There are mystic sounds that feel the air
Keeping me in a trance,
So I forever have the feeling of being locked
Within a fabricated rhythm
Majestic it would seem,
For close we are to falling into a sea of ecstasy
That dips from our bodily pores,
And dehydrated we are
From the heat that intensifies as our lips touch.
It’s something about these Arabian nights
That calls out the animalistic lust that we have,
But I am domesticated to your ascetics.
For the enchantment of your eyes
Is that of sacred reflective glass
Acting as a mirror image
Echoing the holy Sanskrit sky.