your anklets clashing,
feet blurring,
hands dancing in a
frenzied flow of
motion
with hips swaying
as they sit,
captivated
by your
flashing skin
under the glare
of the cheap flourescent lights
the cymbals
reverberating somewhere
in the dark
of the club
the music
seeming to dance across
your face
as your fingertips
graze
their groping hands
just far enough away
as the rhythm
slows
and your skirts
twirl
delicately
in tempo
as i am drawn in
by your lips-
wishing i were like you
so beautiful
and appearing so
comfortable
as yourself
your feet tapping
mouth moving
hair shining
and presence
surrounding
as the lights dim
and the whistles
coupled with
over-eager claps
take over the room.