The beat moves me;

When I hear switching pitches and jumping beats,

I have to move my feet.


I have to leap and jump,

Flail my arms,

Twist my hips;

I have to dance.

I have to dance by myself.

Of course I'd like to dance with you,

But you're too busy 

Dancing with somebody else.


You need her to guide your hands,

Lift your head.

She pulls you around by her little finger,

Your eyes ready to beg.

You'd rather sway in the background,

But she hooks onto your body and grinds,

Feeling her way up your spine


You'd rather talk about your thoughts;

She'd rather house your mouth:

Foreheads shining in sweat...

...Sweat drenched with shots.


Meanwhile, I'm flailing around,

Wild as can be:

Letting the music move my body,

It's just the music and me.


Of course I'd love to dance with you,

But she's got you tied to her waste.

I guess opposites do attract

Too bad one day she'll be gone without a trace...

This poem is about: 


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