Again, dancers

Again, the doors parted. Again, dancers.

The courtyard overgrown, the music a buzz of ambient energy, 
equalized for optimal balance. 

Bass vibrated the soul of my feet, stirred the sole of my being.

I felt the air of a thousand exhales expire my lungs, 
replaced by the sweet anticipation of new air for this audience of one. 

A flower of bodies gilded in golden gowns 
with black embroidery, spun in a circle 
under a twilight sky of summer peach and berry blue,
just for me. 

Taking turns as they turn, they arch 
— dark-haired beauty revolved around my heart — 
their eyes using me as their single reference point. 

I felt my face light, rapt by the seduction. 
Hands holding the doors wide open,
leaning chest first, one foot in 

— my witness to their blooming, 
a moment of stillness meeting 
a moment of movement.

I am in my own concrete courtyard now. 
Alone — save the ivy, the arches, the ruins.  

This time,
I am dancing.  

~ Em C.



This was a dream I had last night. Second dancing “voyeur” dream I’ve had this year. The other I wrote about here.

Not sure what my subconscious is telling me. But I felt free in this dream…


7 thoughts on “Again, dancers

      1. I know the feeling; I had a dream last night of being in the these markets sort of like downtown Chinatown here in SIN. Trying to find the right hawker stalls to pick up the best lunch. Anxiety dream I think, but vivid. The best kind.

        Liked by 1 person

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