At the Dance

I watch as feet step, slide, pivot, and hop—

Bodies extensions of sound, pressing close

In this surging field of glistening skin,

And lights that cut the salty, heady air.

*

Beneath this mass, the foundations quake:

A tremor emanating from the stage

Where musicians paint with rhythm and tone—

Their voices rising above the steady pulse.

*

That dynamic dais of color and song

Flings vivid eyes across the vibrant floor—

An electric jolt as they connect with mine,

A flash of teeth, toss of hair, tilting head—

A passing glance that lingers, then moves on.