Here’s Pau De Duex, a piece that I wrote, inspired by a dream I had back in 2013. Only 516 words in all, but…I like this piece.
I am in a mirrored studio, tying on my shoes, stretching my long limbs, feeling pops, creaks, cracks and protests of muscles and ligaments. Touching the play button on my player, I rotate my neck from side to side, warming to the first hovering notes, stretching my legs into spinning delicately away from the protective barre. Closing my eyes, feeling the music propel my arms, legs, and feet; my body it’s very attentive slave to the pulsing rhythm. My arms outstretched, leaping, jumping, pirouetting, skipping and landing briskly on pointe, never losing the pose and grace afforded by the shoes, never wavering in the conviction of the melody.
I will him to me, feel my body twist and undulate, searching for a partner, a twin flame to burn the music with. His hands are firm, strong, and powerful around my tiny waist, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. I spin through the air with his lifts, thrusting my body into oblivion to only be caught, cradled, his hands easing my body to the contours of his. His fingers suddenly brush my cheek tenderly, painfully slow as he traces my jawline. He leads me, spinning me out of our leaping, prancing ballet into a grand swooping waltz. Our forms change, our bodies dipping, twirling, spinning around the floor, pushing the very walls back in our wide arching turns. His hands are warmer now, holding me close, pulling at the small of my back, our cores touching, matching. His lead and speed are dizzying; we spin out of control, faster and faster until he lifts me straight up. We paused, basking in the moment and then we are moving again, swaying not as humans, no but as two twin wisps of music, breezes on the wind weaving back and forth entangling in each other’s path. There is no more music; we are the music. We are the very fabric of sound melding, twisting, turning and blending, redefining movement, having no boundaries.
Slowly we spin back to our bodies, still dancing, slowly, close, cheek to cheek. His hand again, resting at the small of my back, stroking my spin gently through the thin fabric of my dress. He buries his face into my hair, inhaling softly, tickling my ear. I smile, blushing as he touches my cheek, bringing my chin up, catching my lips lusciously with his. I moan gently, easing into his warm, inviting embrace, pressing into his kiss hungrily. His fingers delicately stroke my cheek, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue smoothly across my lips, gently easing them open. My hands moved to his neck, touching his luxurious hair, twining my fingers into it, pulling him all the more closer. His arms tightened around me, dipping me gracefully, deeply over his knee, breaking our kiss but keeping his face close to mine, our breath intermingling.
“I love you”
It was a whisper, a plea, a simple declaration of truth. We smile, our foreheads resting against one another’s. He kisses my nose, my forehead, and is gone. I stand in my studio, panting and full of longing.