The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The way the back leant curving into space
The dance and danger both are thus evoked
Like a play, a drama, fire and smoke
A dance performed so swiftly and with grace
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The heavy bull is pounding,is provoked.
A threat, a man, intrudes into his space
The dance and danger both are still evoked
See, the matador throws out his cloak
A dash of black, and here we see his face
The vital line was drawn with one brush stroke
The mind needs just a hint to see the whole
We fill the present with our past distaste
The dance and danger, mirroring dark smoke