November 3, 2003

That Night

Flowing silhouettes flowed amongst each other as multicolored points of light dotted their landscape. Smoke billowed up and around and through. The pure lust of the sound surrounded us all, bringing all to one and none at once. The drums of our minds rang true to the unifying beat of the moment to the next, bodies swaying with uninhibited grace, eyes closed, lips pursed, arms undulating. The red, and the green, and the blue shone above all, blindingly visible, powerfully subtle, illuminating those in the trance. Both the skilled and the ungifted moved as the tide, following the crowd and themselves at once; not caring, just feeling, just flowing. The women swung their hips and winked alluringly over their shoulders, men stood with drinks in hand moving gently to the beat, friends cooed to themselves on beauty that had passed, couples gravitated to the corners to nip and peck at each others’ inviting necks, strangers clinked glasses, bodies glistened, minds danced, all held in rapture.

And all were free, yet slaves, to the sound that surrounded the night.