its a
      rush

with a sea of black night
               to splash and dive and drown in

the music kicks my eardrums (-she wears boots)

anticipation rolls like thunder over heads
                                           and hands
                                           and feet
falling back into the primitave
we are the native sons

feel the earth, her pulse erratic
it quakes
waxes and wanes
throbs
and falls away


                 to an explosion
                    one circle
                        we dance

lunacy.
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