Dancing at the Store

I haven't had lessons since the age of three

but me?

 

I'm a dancer

 

Those rhythms in my soul are always pounding

Pulsating, shaking, crying, hoping, longing

For a dance floor

 

And I must confess, most strangers never guess

But I know

 

I'm a dancer

 

And I only wish it wasn't frowned on to

Jive, tap, twirl, shuffle, jazz hands my way along

The aisles of the store that I so often

Stock and straighten

 

You see? I am a dancer

 

Would it be reckless self-expression

Uncalled for, an awkward indiscretion to

Bust a move

 

Right there

With all the eyes

 

Trip the light fantastic

Midst the shocked shoppers

 

Wiggle my caboose

Would they be amused?

 

Or would they just wonder

 

What the heck got into her?

 

Are you listening? I'm a dancer

 

Need I ask permission?

Must I go on in silent social submission?

Even though

 

I know

 

I am 

a

Dancer

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