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.
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…