may i have this dance?

Photo by David Hofmann on Unsplash

i listen to the heartbeat.
a steady stream of
lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub,
smooth skin beneath my fingers.
moonlight scatters onto black tar,
diamonds sparkling under my feet.
i make constellations with my eyes,
a join-the-dots of cosmic proportion.
it seems like the perfect setting
for a dance.
so i slowly stand up,
take a deep bow,
and begin.
fireflies flit between the trees,
twinkling their approval,
as i turn and sway
to the beat in my blood.
the number picks up pace,
and i circle furiously.
this is a dance for a ballroom,
entwined hands, proper posture,
yet somehow i have made it my own.
some might call it lunacy,
to move without music,
on an empty street,
but i am not alone.
every leaf on the tree
rustles in tandem,
the wind whistles a merry tune,
dust swirls in the streetlight,
my shadow dances too.
stop.
the end falls like a hammer.
my chest heaves,
perspiration sliding down my back,
and the road is silent once again,
unaware of the stage it briefly became.