Sunday, January 28, 2007

dance teachers of the highest order

most women were shaking their asses, lovely and sensual, figure-eights and stylized moves, but you, in a pink party dress and dancing with your dad made me smile. he flipped you, pulled you around the floor, you guys played with the music, like a childhood friend. there were no "moves," nothing beautiful except the most amazing and liberated movement to the drums. others were dancing, but you were really feeling it. I gravitated and began to move like a little girl, just jumping , twirling, wishing i had a dad there to flip me in the air. i just want to fall to the floor and play and move to rhythms without style. we are all amazed by belly dancers' hips and practiced art forms, but i want to freak out and run in circles.

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