The talc leaps from the floor As the feet twist and turn To the beat The polish of the wood Burns As the bodies move faster And Faster The rhythm flows Amongst the limbs Swaying Kicking Up in the air The beat, the beat The constant beat Which keeps the whole Room, synchronised In unison Everyone moves in time Time for the energy To flow Flow Flow as if the world depended On it Moving it on its axis Like the femur bones It’s an untamed pulse That beats through every heart In that place They’re all northern souls.

Love vibes in the air **** **** **Everything I want to hear. ** **Eyes looking far away. ** **On any given day. ** **Smiling like Mona Lisa** **Saying I need ya. ** **** ****

Her dress was flowy and pink elegant and soft enchanting and pretty beautiful and perfect The dance she danced was fluid seamless movement without motion controlled and free emotional and simple She did it despite the circumstances despite her mother despite her pain despite the hating eyes despite the loss of a love despite her tears A lot can be said about the girl and how they thought she was innocent naive ugly terrible She was much more than that with her moves She was Isabella. ------- part 2?

The tambourine rattles to the rattling of her body They move like pulsing, electric thrums In time, in tone, the serpant, she embodies Feet leap at the first beat of the drum Now the tempo quickens, all the audience enraptured, ensnared as the watch, as they listen and anticipate the next hand position Feel in the floor the new thundering pace as it races and it chases and yet somehow still with grace her arms twitch, legs twist, for the landing we brace Spine curls, might crack, the arch of her back like a scorpion poised to strike, and quick as a whip, unfurling and snaps, feet slap down and a cloud of dust rises. She moves like the wind, shutters like a spider, she is agile as a monkey yet as mighty and a tiger. The whistle of the flute climbing in pitch signals the climax drawing near, you catch the switch. The subtle shift Now she’s spinning and dipping like a hurricane, it never ends, how does she keep her head, speed on an upward trend. Then, like a moment that is frozen in time, she pushes off in a gazzel’s bound, lifted from the ground. I almost forget to rhyme. She climbs. Closed eyes. Head high. Chin up. A proud smile. We all hold a breath. Is this how it feels before death? Slow, still, the pinochle of life and also the depth. They some survive But never truly live . . . . . : Then just like that the stop in time has snapped, touch down, feet land, hands clap, all so fast, for the dance, and we all forget the revelation of the past five seconds.

In the open air of the night I sway Filling the space around me Laughing happily Breathing heavily My hair whirls in the air Making me happy and carefree I love moving in this way

Where is love? I can’t seem to find it. Besides, what is love anyway? Is it an object? Food? Drink? Maybe an animal ? Peoples it’s a "romantic feeling". It’s not true because why can’t i feel it? I guess I will find out one day but for now.. I would rather nap.

I move as gracefully as I can, trying to hold myself together. My arms gently spreading to the side as I delicately point my toes, the suns slowly setting as if trying to keep the moment alive through her warmth, holding herself between our two worlds. The stars are shyly appearing and illuminating the sky joyfully, but tears are running down my face as I slowly turn and leap, the dance is perfectly choreographed. A dance that smiles and opens its arms out in a hug. It goes with a song about happiness, rather ironic for the situation. My slowly breaking sniffles become more and more desperate, reminding me that I’m just a broken doll silently falling to pieces. I stop and take a breath, thinking of all that’s been lost, taking moment before sadly smiling I return to dancing, beginning to sing along to the imaginary tune in my head. You can do this make it to the end of the dance, you just need to sing the song, our song. I’m just thinking of you as the tears begin to fall again. I should be over this by now I shouldn’t cry until my eyes hurt or suddenly feel immortal, insane, then falling so low I even go as far as to begin to think of joining you with my twisted view of heaven. The birds are flying, moving on. Birds don’t really have a home I guess I’ve never thought about that until now, they just have a pile of twigs and moss that they leave after a while, they have no possessions. Or maybe they do maybe we just don’t see them and perhaps all sticks are different to them. If there are gods that’s what we must look like to them. If so maybe there’s a whole world for animals and plants we don’t see: I mean have you ever seen a plant weep for the one trampled underfoot, killed in a second? We could be like that to gods- completely unreadable our possessions seemingly all the same, maybe the gods don’t understand us, maybe we are just strange creatures and the gods do not watch us lovingly, they do not understand that we are crying in pain they do not understand that we kill ourselves. Imagine that we are a whole world away from them and they don’t even think of us as equals or things that think and love and and have possessions, maybe we are just simply the strange creatures that spend their days wondering around making strange sounds and hurting each other, taking from each other possessions that don’t even look like anything but little bits of plastic to the gods. With a shaky exhale I finish the dance, my last. Perhaps the gods will show mercy and take this broken bird, but I fear they can’t. For my wings are long broken, and I am long out of hope. But god, god god god, gods. What I wouldn’t give to see him one more. My beautiful baby.

Hint hint God Is it not fucking obvious I said I wish I wish I had the will to live Never said I did Cough cough Fucks sake Is it not bloody obvious I drawled what a SHAME Never said it Never promised it Cause death is welcoming Laugh laugh Cause aren’t I so funny Aren’t I so funny When I claim I want to die Claim Claim Yeah that’s really funny Cause you see, I wasn’t claiming I was promising I want to die I want to die I want to die Well not really, thought it’s fine This hints probably to subtle for you I’m not suicidal as such Just sometimes I look at reasons to die Dead bodies Pro suicide websites Cause then I can be in control In control Unlike our conversations You don’t get it.

The pub music came on And a cheer from the bar rung As the waiters took the hands of drunken men. Yes they danced on table tops Even when the music stopped Lively songs were sang by a slurring group of ten. Some were as indecent as can be And other were charmingly sweet But regardless people danced with hand to hand. The men spun the pretty gals And swayed hips with long lost pals In the end there were dozens of shuffling feet. The movements were filled with glee Flutes and Lutes played melody’s As the singer sang the ballads of a lover Swooning in the hands of lust Dancing till their iron shoes rust The pirates pub was one sight to discover! Dancing, dancing, dancing, folks Words conveyed but no one spoke Magic rested in the very atmosphere. In the simple pirates pub Rested one large dancing hub There’s no place more electric at night than here!

A momentary break From her linear form Free, flowing, fun No longer a Mum Not a planner But Sensual curves Fit body, flaring hair Dancing sets her free