Dance Of The Freaky Circles

(a poem from back in the day)

she was out chillin at the club
on one side was a player
on the other side was a thug
the lights were dim
could it be him or maybe him
I was there observing, taking it all in
she wanted to be pursued
seduced
maybe a real love would ensue
because for her this was more than just a whim
to her heart she would remain true
saggy pants and full of drama
the thug was drowning in the conflicts . . .
. . . with his baby’s mama
the player probably could have made her heart sing
but he was too busy, flashing his bling
not so impressed and becoming somewhat distressed
interested only
. . . in someone who would join her in the here and now
her faith rested in . . .
. . .knowing he would cross her path somehow
she kept batting her eyes
and putting on the charm
so I stepped up to her
and grabbed her by the arm
she thought to herself, what a bold move
this must be the definition of smooth
we reached the floor, a soft giggle
feeling the rhythms in her body as she began to wiggle
we started dancing, then she backed her ass up
I pushed up on her like I was hitting it tough
our bodies became synchronized
we felt each other s thoughts
looked deep into each others eyes
unspeakable sensations
this dance floor exploration
dirty dancing, dirty thoughts, pure joy
hope
she acknowledge my guile
I recognized her smile
this dance was to last a while
time collapsed
we both relapsed
believing once again that there never was
there never will be
there is just this
this IS the chance
because this was more than a dance
the opportunity of a lifetime
envisioned over and over
that technicolor romance
dreamy, steamy, seemingly everything
desire, why resist?
the music came to an end, but not the groove
now arrived the time to discover the truth

Rory


©rj2008/11

*photos used under license. all rights reserved.
  abstract lights © SSilver - Fotolia.com
  party people© Robert Adrian Hillman | Dreamstime.com