How I love to watch you dance, as though I didn’t love you enough already, your body so strong movements of quiet determination. You seem to loose your fight with life, carefree and new, your dance being your only motivation. Its in your soul which glides across the floor and as I watch you in this perfect trance your story still unfolds.
Feet pressed lightly but firmly on the ground, knees slightly bent to catch the sound, its in the steps you take that makes the music just for you. The room is dimly lit, the air not enough, which seems so trivial to those on the dance floor. It’s filled with people, all in awe of you, of which your’e so unaware. Your rhythm so intense you move with ease. No effort involved, still managing a smile, a quick word and even a handshake to strangers passing by. Some admire, some watch with envy while others with only lust in their eyes. For you are the only one dancing with your heart and not your feet. What a natural thing for you to do. What a privilege to have this opportunity.
It isn’t the dance which takes my breath away, even though it appears that way, its that in your dance your life story remains untold. You live in a world of misfortune yet when you dance, you own the world. Its not for gain, wealth or power, but for the release of your damnedest life. Take me, take me, says your every step, for I am so tired of this life. For if I dream of a perfect life it would be one of dance, where all my troubles disappear, where my fight seems to fade even for just one night.
You start to lose your light when they play the last song, almost afraid of the outside reality. You close your eyes and lose yourself not wanting to be found, not just yet. But the music stops and once again I’ve lost you, to a world of cruel reality. Oh, to watch you dance.