Coats and bags retrieved in haste,
as into the darkness the Saturday girls flow.
Amidst gales of laughter they link arms and share umbrellas
in that habitual rush to hurry home.
Grab a hasty snack,
Hurtle upstairs!
A bath, then wrapped in ‘gowns the Saturday night ritual begins.
Hair arranged, make-up applied until each masterpiece is ready
To be wrapped in creations that dazzle and blind.
Cheery calls of bye and don’t be late,
Then into the night, eyes sparkling, laughing and radiant,
Heels clicking on pavements still slick from the earlier rain.
A bus ride and a few drinks later, and at last the queue is joined.
They all file in with calls and gestures, jostling for position.
Coats exchanged for tickets as they descend into darkness together
Following the insistent steady pulse of raw dance music.
Then out onto the dance floor, arms and hips swaying as the rhythmic pulse
permeates to their very bones.
Frenzied energy dissipates in time, and pulses begin to race to a different beat,
As with eyes half closed, beads of sweat on brows, and lost in music,
They bump and grind.
Strobes light faces, as would be lovers strain to converse,
Watching lips for clues, moving ever nearer until bodies touch and
With lip to ear in desperation they struggle to make contact.
The air heavy with the smell of sex and smoke,
hips and thighs meld, and mesmerized they sway together as the last dance is played.
i like this too (sorry its an old thread, but i really really like this one!)