The dance of my prey

Their eyes skitter as they sway. Oh how they glow As I watch them dance, Eager to taste If given the chance. Their eyes skitter as they sway. The scent of sweat A delicate array, I prowl closer Eager to choose my prey. Their eyes skitter as they sway. Juices dripping The noise akin to…

An envious sister

Some people were born to dance. My two sister are those fortunate people. One a London professional. The other, ¬†a unique and creative¬†break dancer. Which of course, leads to one too many dance offs on night outs (after a multitude of cocktails). Then, there is me. I have been forced into sweaty studios since a…