...than dance. When you sway to the rhythm of the music, your insides pulsating loudly with every beat. You place your limbs under arrest, in the melody that captivates your soul.
Gracefully, you angle yourself to the direction of the sound and then you turn your body in a full 360 degrees, bowing down with arms resting at the top of your head. You pick up where you last left.
Again. Start 1,2, 3 demi-plie. Kick-ball step, pirouette and rest. One stretch, two extend, three arabesque. Pique followed by a half-pivot turn. Everything adagio. The sun begins to set. You pause in the middle of the piece and notice that someone is looking through the window outside.
Or you thought there was. You stop the music. Everything seems quiet and stark. The wind seems to be blowing off course, but the trees and the bushes swing to its path all the same. The moon is cradled cuddly in their branches. You breathe a handsome amount of the cold air and then you feel the strength creeping in your veins - you feel rejuvenated. Once again, you begin another round.
Then your feet begin to hurt. You fall and take off your shoes. Nothing but blood and sweat to your dismay. You've given everything to master this routine. You can't give up now. You try to stand up, your legs feel numb that you tremble and nearly stumble. Then and there, just as you were about to fall, someone catches you.
Those arms are so familiar they feel like they've held you long before. It's as if you've been waiting for them to touch you...
...for a long long time now.
Nothing can ever take you away from the one thing that you love. Even if it kills you. The question is, where is it? Has it found you yet?
(The things I learned from a few of my jazz dance classes. Thanks Ms. Venus. I wish I could do it again. It would be nice to dance these feet I used to wear out since 4.)
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