Technically.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The techno beat moves the masses on the floor. A sensual woman's voice pierces the flashing lights. She sings of loves in a soft voices of wishings. Its just music but seems to take over the room. The base is deep in my chest and taps out loud. Ladies adorn the speakers that surround the floor. Poles that jut up hold them as they spin around. Their skimpy outfits barely contain the rhythm. Using their flesh they temp onlookers to gawk. Smoke hoovers low to the floor as lights move. Flashing colors about, the d.j. continues to play on. Looking down he does not see what he does. With a new spin the crowed bumps with it slow. I am on the edge looking in to the pit of people. An orgy of letting loose taking place in full view. Working my way between the bodies I go deep. Finding the middle feel the energy surround me. Brushed up against me they welcome the new. Then you find me there and take my hands in front. You letting yourself take me up against you close. Like a camera falling out of focus it all goes a blur.