Saturday Night

Lights reflecting off night streets,

Heels clicking on the sidewalk to the rhythm of the car stereos passing by.

Chanel No. 5 and Hugo Boss fly on the city winds mingling with the scents of roasting chestnuts and hot dogs.

Crowds dance on the sidewalks that vibrate to the pulse of night.

Pass the lines of pretty boys, and waif girls, I climb the darkened stairs of the club.

Pass the lines of pretty girls and waif boys, I steal inside this temple, eyes searching.

The bass from the speakers surrounds me, muffling the world outside. 

Enveloping me in its strong arms, shutting the world outside.

Ice chilling vodka, sweet mandarin or tart lemon. 

Lights dance off rings sparkling.

Dresses cling tighter while crisp shirt collars yield to bronzed muscle.

Fingers softly explore.

Rhythm moves us. Calling strangers together in this sacred communion.

Ritual sacrifice of personal space and social conventions please the worshipers, who gladly give way to trembling lips and curious tongues.

Windows steam. 

Lights tremble in condensation.

The air heavy with wet skin, deodorant and alcohol.

Thighs tighten, hips shake. Bums tighten, breasts shake.

We pair up, break up, pair up again. 2, 3, 4, bodies blending together, becoming one.

We for a moment are not alone.

Give up oneself to the music. Oh happy slave! Moving to the DJ's command.

A flick of the wrist- a new beat rises through the old. 

Faster it grows, and all thoughts leave.

I am present.

He is numb.

And she is moving with me.

This is my perfect Saturday night.