Sunday, January 28, 2007

First Contact

Yeah, silly for a down and beat kitty to say, yeah, silly but true, oh it must have been fine for the ladies in the days of formal dances, meeting a fellow on the floor, to be touched in socially acceptable fashion, to fine music, to steps accepted and known by all, the waltz, foxtrot, tango, or earlier, the minuet, sarabande, grand waltz, ah, to meet a man on the floor, to move together for the first time, touching in breathless exploration, or in Western square dances of great intricacy, allowing bodies to move to the beat of the caller's voice, allemande left, allemande right, honor your partner, switching partners in reels and oh mercy, one may leave you wanting, the other leave you wanting more!

Important courtship ritual blown to smithereens by modern sexual revolution, oh the irony, rituals disdained, as false and brittle modernity papers over primal need with pompous sophistications, ah, the dance cards at the old balls, where one didn't know which partner would appear as the next song began, breathless anticipations, first contact, yeah that sends me, baby, just the very notion.


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