I Am Dancing

By: Mads

 

I am dancing.

I am captured by the tango.

Dark red lit shadows conceal my face.

I am ballroom grace

Whirling in the arms of lust and the eyes of imprisonment.

I am dancing.

I am fluid motion

Swiftly descending into a spell-binding ambience of alluring anguish.

I am lucid passion rushing through blood

Stalling reasonable speculation and morality

To indulge in one more effortless instant of the compelling high.

I am dancing.

I am sky high leaps

Desperately pushing, fighting, resisting the gravity of emotional annihilation.

I am figure skating

Slipping on ice with expectation’s hastening tempo

Watched by one merciless unresponsive stark white mask.

I am dancing.

I am a trapeze artist

Fascinated by the coalesced discoloration

Of the conscious mind’s delicate ability to differentiate between

Vividly breathing and simply surviving.

Like watercolor in the rain,

I am a kaleidoscope:

Prone to change.

I am dancing.

I am not her who was once dreamt up by innocence.

I am not ballet

Or even predictable at all.

But at least,

I am dancing.