I inhale his scent, his warmth, his youth, his deliciousness and know that for a few seconds I’m facing no one, so I can close my eyes in the wrongness of this rapture.
His body is against mine, in a vertical expression, as the music sings that if dying of love is possible, of it, I shall die.
This isn’t love, oh no, with this young buck, this is not exactly lust either.
It’s a sensual profound desire to show him the heights of pleasures I could take us to… Ah he could be so green.
But he moves with me in perfect harmony, the hips sway in absolute enticement, the hands keeping me captive, one on my back; the other keeps my right hand on his heart, I can feel it, the drumming against my palm, the soft touch of his palm against the back of my hand. And then he turns us and I face the crowd, the other dancers, no longer safe, no longer, my face is hidden from judgement.
I open my eyes to pretend it’s a normal dance, that he isn’t killing me, that there isn’t a dragon perched behind my neck, full fletched wings, the spam of three worlds opened, breathing fire over us.
Burning me, killing me, I’m falling.