I want to dance with you in the thickness
of a city-lit summer night,
in parking lot or street,
in makeshift ballroom with floor of asphalt
and walls of nothing more than
and orange/white/orange horses.
Let our souls rise together on waves of wine, heat, and song.
I want to dance with you in the thick of the summer night,
head half-gone with the drink.
I want to come to you, naked beneath my dress;
with a brush of your hand
you bare my breast, my thigh, my…mind.
Let our souls rise together.
I want to dance with you.
There is a temperature at which the world holds still.
the sacred cool of an October evening, and
the profane warmth of a July night,
it separates each sound and breath from the next,
creating a staccato of solitude.
Let us rise.
(This poem was inspired by the World’s Largest Block Party. I’ve only attended it twice, but it was glorious both times.)