There’s something about dancing. The way he holds your hand, the way the music just courses through your veins turning your heart into a bass drum that pounds in your ear, the way your very being itself comes alive.
The music is what draws you to move. It starts with a spark, igniting in your conscience, travelling throughout your body, drawing you to begin to sway. Gently and slowly at first, slowly progressing to a more full and expressive movement. Soon you lose track of time, spinning, twirling, laughing because nothing could ever be better than this.
Absolute joy fills your soul and slyly lifts the corners of your mouth as he pulls you in and out. The world is a blur of colors and yet somehow all you can see is the two of you on the dance floor, you move together in a way that is pleasantly shocking. Fluid and unforgettable.
You don’t want the dance to end, but as the song comes to a conclusion you find yourself still smiling despite the feelings of longing and sadness that linger around the edges of your mind.
The job of the feet is to walk, but their hobby is dancing.