My legs are trapped in constant motion
My hips are stuck in primal abandon
And my torso is paralyzed in movement and rhythm

Sweat drips down into our semi-formal attire and into our hair to the beat of the pulsating music

The full moon beckons us, sways our bodies’ water, and calls us into another primal howl

The moon looks after us lovers

After what seems to be an eternity of jumping, wincing, and bruising the black soles of our feet
We board the bus, and you would think it would dial down

But my friends are still f*****g going
The smell of skunk, sweat, and sadness in the air

Their melancholy songs bellow across the bus
And with the shred of adrenaline I have left, I sing quietly with my legs draped over my sweet Kansas friend

And we beat on, back into the starless night.