The Dance

The Dance

We choose to go back and forth, our thoughts moving fluidly through the air, piercing the dead of night with moments of bright revelation. It is indicative of both what is there and what is not there, and of what possibly may never be.

We go through all the taboo subjects; politics, religion, philosophy, current events and the fortunes of actors who allow their larger than life personas deprive them of humanity. We spend hours talking over the most consequential of subjects, while delving to new depth on topics so fleeting, their relevance is gone before our treatment of them is past.

Half eaten entrées clutter the table, as multiple bottles of wine take their places as well. Some of the bottles still hold the remains of their liquid festiveness, while others roll around empty, remains of battles, celebrations, victories and defeats that have passed this way not too many hours before.

Ours is a delicate exchange, we two among the many here tonight. We strive to keep the cloak that hides the true purpose of our attending these events to our own selves, yet we both know that this is the last place on earth we wish to be during these masquerades.

I move towards the door, to be met with the joyous calls beckoning me back to the center of the fray. Our eyes meet, and the thunder they hold is undetectable by those who do not know. Those who, with luck, will never know. This is between us, and the world outside be damned, for it is not of their concern.

I try to break away again, yet you pull me out onto the floor, deeper into pulsing throngs that consume me whole, devour me with their pulsating rhythms. I am too weak to resist. I see the furor within, and it holds me in its trance.

We play this sordid little game until you finally assert your power over me, and lead me off in a direction that is neither from whence I came, nor where I wanted to go. But at this point I do not understand the dangers. I only know that I am helpless before the temptation in front of me.

You call out.

I go.

You lead me into slumber chambers closed off from the rest of the world. There, we two become one, and time plays tricks on my senses, leading me to believe you have the power to both speed up and slow down its passage, and at the same time no less.

Agony for ecstasy.

Ecstasy for agony.

The world is turned inside out, and life loses all prior meaning, the replacement deeper, bolder, more vivid.

I turn myself over to your power, and am consumed like flash paper in a flame.

In the morning you are gone, yet for all my guilt, I know the dance shall be played again.