A lone patron becomes her focus for the night.
As the rhythm strikes, I sway to the beat For the man in black, As our glazed eyes meet. With a suit well pressed, He’s under my skin. As I twirl and grind, I’m dancing for him. A soloist tryst, Now a pas de deux. My face wears a mask, Which he can see through. My hands are fevered, Stoked by fire within. Fingertips, his touch, Alight on my skin. Graceful dips and twirls ...Read On