Dancing at the Store

I haven't had lessons since the age of three

but me?


I'm a dancer


Those rhythms in my soul are always pounding

Pulsating, shaking, crying, hoping, longing

For a dance floor


And I must confess, most strangers never guess

But I know


I'm a dancer


And I only wish it wasn't frowned on to

Jive, tap, twirl, shuffle, jazz hands my way along

The aisles of the store that I so often

Stock and straighten


You see? I am a dancer


Would it be reckless self-expression

Uncalled for, an awkward indiscretion to

Bust a move


Right there

With all the eyes


Trip the light fantastic

Midst the shocked shoppers


Wiggle my caboose

Would they be amused?


Or would they just wonder


What the heck got into her?


Are you listening? I'm a dancer


Need I ask permission?

Must I go on in silent social submission?

Even though


I know


I am 




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