Dance.

It is what inspires.

It's what I admire.

I will never tire, from its constant attraction to me.

It is a distraction to me.

With its strong interaction and flows,

between the Jim Crows and John Does.

​

Dance.

It is what I constantly crave.

People can be so fucking brave,

challenging epilepsy at a rave.

The beauty enslaves me.

Behind the lens I am in a trance.

All I want to do is dance,

but the circumstance aint right.

I want to dance with these fools,

to be in that spotlight.

That ankle popping, finger clicking, fat jiggling feeling

of losing yourself to the music.

​

You know what I'm talking about

You felt that feeling before.

Coulda swore that was you I saw on the dancefloor.

​

The dancefloor is a primitive place,

where you suddenly remember how to move to the bass.

It's fast pace, state of grace, stone-like face

slipping,

dripping,

to reveal

that long forgotten sex appeal.

​

Then the sound slows down.

Look around from frown to frown.

We exit the dancefloor.