Slipping the earphones on her ears, a light shines in the dancer’s eyes and radiates through the room; the space trickles with the sweat of anticipation. her body moves to the inaudible thrumming of the music, bodies respond with a palpable need to hear the pulsing electric current streaming into her ears. She isn’t the most graceful of dancers and there are even comical moments in timing and rhythm, but that isn’t the attraction thing at all—no, it’s this inner vibration that is better than perfectly ripened fruit, better than running an 80 yard touchdown, better than belly laughing until you cry because the whole time you are watching her at her finest, you feel awakened to your finest. You become aware of yourself in ways you never knew before this moment. All this–taking her in so completely at home and in love in her own body and soul and with the moment—awakens a desire from deep within your soul, so much so that you can’t deny your need to be encompassed by that feeling. You crave her in your presence; want to soak up the energy dripping from her fingertips, see her look deep into your eyes and know you so plainly. There is no need for words or explanations–your own soul has been peeled like a grape, exposed and raw; scintillating and almost painful as the warm air dances all prickly over your newly exposed self–you can’t help but hope the little breeze of attention will settle on you and set off the sensations all over again.
Now playing: Arctic Monkeys – I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor