The radio blaring
The words entrancing
The sounds wrappng around.
The beat may seem rampid,
it stirs in my chest.
A versions of someone
I see them abreast
Swerving the hips
Bump and a grind.
The rythm seeming to roll
from their body
in vibrant waves.
Drawn in, I join,
entangled our bodys.
The beat pounding
us harder.
The sweet smell of sweat
The thick fumes of dust.
The deep lulling of music
The song softly ends,
I stand alone in my room
not properly dressed.
The phone rings
a shirll tune.
But taking it to my ear,
a voice says, "You want to go out?"
My answer was simple.
"H*ll yes."
It doesn't have a title. I wrote it after reading this short story by Queeny, about music, and it took me away. I could help, but write.
Althea_green Community Member 
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