like to dance, others don't,
but are forced
onto the dance
floor
by wives
and girlfriends,
at weddings,
and parties,
darkened night clubs.
they are
forced to move about
in embarrassing
ways,
stirring up gyrations,
almost forgotten,
unused for decades.
they slide their shoes
across
the floor
tossing arms about,
twisting
their bodies this way
and that,
counting the seconds
when the song
will end,
when the band will stop.
what we do for love,
or lust
is immeasurable at times.
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