The puddles dance,
The music writhes,
The water sprays like fire.
The notes glide and shackle ears,
Lips sing along,
Bodies move with a hidden fury.
Molding together,
Lips touch and hair drips,
Clothes show the untouchable,
See through and boiling.
Boys scream inside,
Girls taunt with closed mouths.
The music haunts,
Its swallows the innocent,
Empowers the movers.
The puddles dance,
The music writhes,
The water sprays like fire,
The sweat drips from flesh.
The movers dance.

By Siobhan
Date: 10/June/2004