"All Dressed Up", photograph, 1999
The Dance
Hand, resting on the small of my back,
directs my movements through the smoke-filled room.
The deafening music silences moving Lips,
but Eyes communicate the intense message.
Alone in a hazy dream-like state,
Hand on my hips keeps me grounded.
Swaying to the driving beat,
Hearts pulpitate as one.
Suddenly the music stops,
dreams drown in pools of stinking beer on the floor.
Ripped away by the claws of reality,
the dance is over and all is gone.
