dancing queens

when sergio mendes' magalenha started to play, i knew i was standing but in my mind, i saw myself on those nights when the only love i loved to love was to dance, where friends looked for me and they saw me up on the stage, dancing together with the band.  or those few minutes of forgetfulness and you found yourself in the arms of a complete stranger, his body full of sweat next to you. oh those carefree nights... i was young...and well, the music's high.

i remember when my trainer was teaching me a new set of exercises.  while he was watching me as i try to copy him, he asked me, do you dance.  i replied, i used to.  he smiled and said, no wonder you are a fast learner.  really, sometimes, old ghosts come to haunt you. they possess you and bam! you retrace the steps you always knew by heart.

i love to dance.  where the lights make you high, the beat of the music fills your chest, as if it is about to explode, it echoes within you and all you have to do is to move your body and let it all out. sometimes i laugh, because when i close my eyes and lose myself to the rhythm, i am transported to heights i never been to, to a kind of solitude, a freedom so rare, and yet when i open them i find myself exactly on the same spot.


and then, i think of you.  i think of you and i think of the night we danced, where you fell in love with the lights, fran tried to capture them.  i, on the other hand, tried to find what i forgot, or lost. little by little, i found them, i found myself on that dancefloor.  

i once asked you why we are close.  i did not see that the answer was there all along. so, shall we dance again, kane?