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…