Her red dress pops from the colorless crowd,
Hips swaying side to side,
Perfectly in sync with the music.
Arms in the air,
Her crimson hair thrashes about.
She’s a flame lighting those around her.
Bright red lips,
Jewelry glinting from the lights of the stage,
Beads of sweat on her brow,
Her smooth, muscular calfs rhythmically thumping.
She’s a woman releasing the fire inside her.
She uses the music as a flourishing wind,
Nourishing the kinder within,
Until it flashes into a wildfire.
For those fiery moments,
She is untamable.
The boiling of her blood,
Causing her skin to flush,
As her radiance engulfs those around her.
She’s a woman who’s normally shy and quiet,
Cool, calm, collected.
Yet when that music fans the fire in her soul,
She can’t help but dance like a flame.
Read: Watching You Get Dressed Again
Read: She Was Traveling Through My Country
Read: Why Should I Write About Her?
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