They are all wild hair and glimmering shoulders
Easy smiles and open arms
Your cynicism cannot touch their soft butter joy
It spreads like that – easy, fearless, filling in the nooks and crannies of the night.
And so they dance.
The music their only worthy partner in the midst of
bodies bedecked and hearts armor-guarded.
Women like this were not made to be conquered, possessed, tamed.
These bad bitches ride the wind, the music, their dreams.
Their joy lights from within and burns away the sharp edges of the world.
With their ample hips and lion hearts, they carve out a space all curves and bounce.
Come close and feel that warmth.
Then hold onto the perfumed scent of freedom they leave behind as they
Gallop on into the night.