Dance Night

 I breathe in deeply, and watch my breath leave my body. The bouncer nods for me to go inside. Already I can hear the thud from the massive speakers. The music is Latin, lightning fast, as the feet inside shuffle furiously against the wood floor. I walk down the steps and immediately am drawn into the new atmosphere. Outside stops being, it is not permitted into the club, not the cool air who dances idly to the anonymous noises in the night. Nor the glittering stars in the clear black sky. Inside now I walk past a long line up for coat check, but wearing only a burning burgundy dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top to let my black chest hairs breath, I don’t need the service. My shirt is tucked into a pair of dress pants, dark navy blue, leather belt, and expensive burgundy leather shoes.

 There is almost no where to move as dancers depict emotions with their body movements in the dim light. Sliding passed the unchained bodies I find an air pocket somewhere near the middle of all the chaos, as does she at the same time. Her white long dress drapes down to her ankles, snuggling close to her tanned frame. Her black heels place her just a foot below me, and her face... How do I describe her check bones, whom my finger tips desire to stroke. Or to describe the neck which I long to graze with my lips. There is a moment of locked eyes as she studies my muscular frame hidden beneath my perfectly ordered clothes. My hand gently moves forward for her to take. It sits in mid air for a moment, than her creamy smooth hand rests in mine.

 We begin moving slowly as the empty space around us closes in. Simple steps, back and forward, but perfect and elegant. Immediately our feet follow the rhythm, and each other. Our eyes still locked, than a smile pokes out from her lips, and it follows onto mine. Our bodies hold the same rhythm as before, but my arm raises to just above her head, and without warning she spins flawlessly around in one full turn. Our hands meet once again. The space around grows us a little more, and the music changes, gets faster, seems louder, but its impossible to tell right now as only our bodies hear the sound, and no longer our ears. With but a hand raised she glides around so gracefully, one, two and three, and than we meet up again, this time closer than before. The range we dance at widens as the floor splits apart to accommodate the passionate movements. This time when she spins back into my body  were as close as we can be, her warmth heats up my clothes and singes my skin. Quickly she is released and sent spinning. As I walk so slowly she dances all around me. My hand moves from her hand, to grazing her back as she spins, down her arm and back into her hand.

 Some people watch, most others move around the floor with their eyes focused on their own passions. Outside the night air grows colder. The wind picks up and scatters a few dry fallen leafs across a tough, empty Toronto Street. Back inside the noise is still bouncing off the walls, as the bodies move to its command. As she turns wildly around me a sweat drops down the side of my face. We dance on into the late night. Eventually the music slows down, the densely packed club disperses. Those who remain now dance slowly. Heads rest on shoulders, movements tighten, and the world in here now eases down to a calmer pitch.

 We are at the bar when she suddenly walks away while I am turned around ordering us drinks. Presumably she has gone to the bathroom. She is obscured from my sight at the other end of the club by the remaining dancers and dim lighting, so I wait until her return. I reminisce about her gentle hands snuggled into my palms, of her flawless body floating across the dance floor. I imagine what her voice sounds like; pretend that, with a soft pitch, she whispers something into my ear. By the time I can feel my arms reach around her body and hold her tightly I realize she is gone. I put my drink down, whiskey on ice; half dranken, and leave the place. The cold air rushes down my shirt and cools me down instantly. Walking against the winds I find myself wonder to where she might have fled. As I disappear down the road in the late night I like to tell myself that I will see her again, and I say, to me, when I do, I will get to hold on to her for just a moment longer.