Step, step, step. step to the rhythm in the darkened room; barely enough light to see your soul, and yet you dance - shaking your head from side to side.
The smell is clean and you are electric on the aluminum dance floor - moving and flying like a bird with your arms swaying freely in the air. Eyes closed~~resigning to the music. You listen to the song of the dark voice and thesteel drums; this is truth and all are watching.
Up on stage you stand in front. Your head tilts up and your eyes open, just to look for your partner. He is somewhere out there in the sweaty, bobbing mass of flesh. You find him and smile; close your eyes and continue in your meditatively euphoric dance. You are on a hypnotic plane with no desire for reality. You bump into someone or mistakenly cross a path and a simple wave of the arm or the nod of head excuses the blunder - the music builds and your body responds.
transition
Another song pulsates through the speakers. You pound your feet harder and your arms spread wider. Your knees bend, your back curves to each deafening beat.
Front 242 brings me back to Club Post Nuclear, a dance club in Laguna Beach. 20 years later, I look back with a desirous yearning in my growing years. It is 10:25 pm and I am yawning.
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