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When I Dance

When I dance at a Disco
I have a bit of a problem
Stress actually.
I crave contact.
The disco is filled with islands
Individuals, and small groups.
Each expressing a separate reality.
Often quite interesting,
But difficult to connect with.
I go out on the dance floor
And the craving for contact
Begins to build.
Attraction to so many islands
But almost never
The sense that I can come ashore
And become a welcome visitor.
By the end of the evening,
My desire for contact
Has become like an electrical charge,
And I've become
A bolt of lightning waiting to strike.
I leave the disco
All charged up and all stressed out.
When I go country dancing
It's all very different
In country dancing
I get a partner.
And with my partner
I get contact.
Lots of different kinds of contact
    Sometimes subtle.
    Sometimes jarring.
    Sometimes shallow.
    Sometimes deep.
It's a conversation without words.
Every so often
It feels like a circuit
Is completed.
My dance partner and I
Exchange some kind of energy.
I begin to feel
Some forgotten part of myself
Gently re-awakening.
And I remember
Why I craved contact
In the first place.
I go home
Happy and satisfied.

23 August 2001

by Bill Cattey