Dance

Thump, thump, thump, thump, the beat crawls along my skin as the taste of sugar rolls down my throat. Jump into this moment, as it jiggles by with each second, as sugar mixes with blood, as beats mix with sounds and my fingers press life into springs and plastic. It dances with the lightest of steps, on the borders of my mind, on the whispers beside my ear. The rhythm encompasses my body and sends small shivers of chills up and down my arms. My hips want to move with each hard beat like grinding upon my lover’s hips to thrust him deeper within me. The sounds resonate on the top on my head like raindrops. The strange, fascinating noises tantalizing my eardrums, almost teasing them, making them want more.
My hands search for the right keys to press. Pressing the black squares, trying to form words as my mind reacts to the music, the rhythms, the never-ending cacophony of noises being emitted from the speakers and being injected into my brain like sperm being ejected into the womb. The top of my skull feels open and vulnerable as if something can fall directly into it, or perhaps escape out of it, like some strange creature from regions best left forgotten. It seems that I am separated from the fingers that type these words on the newfangled keyboard. I feel a sense of being disconnected and it takes several moments for my thoughts to reach my hands.
I want to dance. But not with my body, well, not with what I have come to know as my physical body. I want to dance with that invisible part of me that I know is in there somewhere, yearning to come out. It wants to dance. It wants to be free.
The instruments strum and pound as I scratch my face. I have suddenly become itchy. I feel tiny bugs on my skin that probably don’t really exist. Invisible bugs dancing on the soft surface of my skin, brushing across the air, making me itch. The invisible bugs dance like there is no tomorrow. They only dance in the nowness of the universe. A rhythm only heard by them and no others.
I take a deep breath. My spine burns. The flames are dancing up and down my spine. They lap at my bones like logs burning in a fireplace. The flames consume me. Hotter and hotter I become. My spine feels like the stick skewering a kabob, holding meat onto the wood so it won’t fall into the flames. It burns hot, but does not get charred.
Again, a deep breath. Don’t forget to breathe. You mustn’t forget to breathe. The breath carries the life force into our bodies, sending it deeper and deeper into our core. The shadow of the witch on the wall stirs her brew. Toad’s eyes and lizard gizzards. The shadow of the crown looks like a witch. A benevolent witch. Not a mean one at all. A cute little Halloween witch with a black cauldron.
My fingers don’t want to type words any more. The invisible core within me wants to dance. It wants to dance the eternal dance that it has always been dancing, it was just never able to come out, never able to come out and dance. It was like a young girl at a school dance that just sat in the chair in the back of the room, too afraid of what other people might say about her if they saw her dance. Too afraid to ever really be herself, to be free enough to dance her own dance.
Now, the invisible part of me will no longer sit quietly in the back of the gymnasium worried about what others will think. Fuck them. They don’t know the feeling. They will never know. Perhaps they do know and they just don’t want me to know. People can be mean like that. They want to keep everything for themselves and not let others enjoy things like dancing. They laugh and point. Fuck them.
I will dance.
I will dance like the flames and the bugs.
I will dance my invisible dance that only I know I am dancing.