Nights

My body moves easily to the beat

People gravitate, but I know the encounter is fleeting

I expect no more, but it’s a blow to the ego

Sweat envelopes my body and a hand’s on my waist

I move with purpose now, without a glimpse of the face

The event is symbiotic, the atmosphere hypnotic, we turn and we kiss and the passion is tragic

There is no love, just intensity in this lust story

We live and we thrive in anonymity’s glory

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