My eyes close gently
Like butterflies finding peace.
My breathing is soft
Like the winds that move music.
On my back,
Covered with duvet,
I come alive.
Don’t you hear it?
The call to an ancient rhythm?
I start to dance.
My eyes clench shut
Like doors to an argument.
My breathing picks up pace
Like the smoke of heat in winter.
On my back,
Covered with sweat,
I come alive.
The dance begins:
It starts at my toes.
Clenching, curling,
Pirouette Princess.
Moves up my thighs,
Shaking, sliding,
Shimmy salsa.
My hands join in,
They create foreign mundras.
Massaging circles into soft flowers.
I’m blooming all over again.
The rhythm picks up pace,
The drum beats vibrations into my existence.
The process repeats,
Pirouette toes,
Salsa thighs,
And flowers blooming from fingertips.
Faster,
This time,
Faster.
My eyelids play movies I’ve never seen,
My breath hitches in my throat,
I’m coming alive.
Suddenly,
I feel everything all at once.
My head starts to spin,
The good kind of dizzy.
On my back,
Lifting up,
Soul leaving body in unspoken essence,
I’m coming undone.
In a estranged voice I’ve never known,
Your name leaves my parted lips.
The music stops,
The dance is complete,
And the petals wilt.
Fingertips sticky with nectar.
Or is it pollen?
Doesn’t matter—
It still tastes sweet.