When she dances, her hair flies out around her. You can’t tell what colour it is. It’s brown and gold, it’s blonde and copper. It’s beautiful. You’ve pined after her since you were children, since she is perfection. But you’re not her type. She’s more into guys.
I dreamed I was a dancing princess. I would glide gracefully across the stage and everybody was in awe, but yet it was just a dream a dream that would never come true a thought of hope.
The sunlight shone through the stained glass window in the chapel. It created tiny pieces of rainbow that were scattered all over the floor and pews. She sat and looked up at the cross hanging in the front and the rainbows were strewn across her delicate face. They changed her brown eyes into a window to heaven.
I danced through the doors of my office with a grin on my face, excited about the day ahead. Just as the doors shut behind me, a voice spoke up from behind my desk.
“You sure look like you’re having fun,” the girl in my chair said, voice dripping with derision, “Mom.”
Pulling me near you sigh into my ear, “Is tonight a lasting treasure?” We sway completely, fluid and easy, “…and…” you hesitate, tilt my head so we come eye to eye, “…will you still be here tomorrow?”
Off in the distance we hear the midnight toll: seconds here, now all gone.
The love light in these eyes, that’s what you question? I’d pull away in frustration if I didn’t sometimes wonder of you the same.
She danced as she thought no one was watching. But unknown to her Mr. D’souza was by the door. She winced in pain, grimaced but nevertheless carried on. It was important to her. She was dying. Only, no one knew but her.
I love to dance with this guy who says he has two left feet on the dance floor. But I don’t see it. What I see is this guy who could be a champion, Which of cause, as you know, I am. And what else is true? That’s for you to guess.
And they danced the night away. They knew, once the night was done, it was all over. So they kept dancing. And dancing. And dancing some more. Moments of sheer bliss. Moments of wonder. All trying desperately to stave off the morning.
I danced until I couldn’t dance anymore. The way our bodies moved together was deeper than the ocean itself. I moved, he moved. He moved, I moved. We danced and danced and danced.
Lena danced at the club. but without alcohol it felt awkward. she didn’t like the music and she couldn’t dance to music she didn’t like – it felt inauthentic. she looked around desperately at the other women and hoped that someone hot would approach her and dance with her and kiss her because that was the point, right? Or was the point to listen to this B Grade celebrity DJing some shit RnB tunes? She looked at her phone and started texting people.
She shrugged her shoulders back and smoothed down her hair. The lollipop in her mouth clattered against her teeth. The worn rubber soles of her shoes were thin beneath her feet.
He danced through the night. Waiting for someone to came and dance with him. This happened every weekend. Until someone did. Someone, he didn’t know who, he didn’t really care, came and dance with him. There was no music, only them, dancing together.
As they held their hands together. they moved with incredible foot works.
With grace and passion, They go along with the flow of the music.
As onlookers look with wonder, they continued, unaware of what is happening.
As they took their last step, they realized what was happening.
They took a bow.
They danced.
As the sunlight danced on his hair all she could do is stare. The love that swelled within her chest threated to climb up and choke her. Seeing him like this, so free and young always took her back. To the days when they would dance in the back of his truck with declares of love frozen in the air around them. She could see them dancing in the kitchen, laughing with trying to stay upright, leaning on each other as the alcohol coursed through their systems. She could see him dancing with their children, singing softly and holding them tight. And she knew this was the only man for her.
i find myself constantly disgusted
by the commodification of indifference
the socialization of privacy
how we publicize our reality
danced on our graves
we sold our solidarity
to a company of commoners
who preached singularity
I danced my way through the night. I have been practicing for months now, and all my hard work has payed off. I can hear the audiences applause as I make my final move, tears are welling up in my eyes. I love this form of art.
The leaves danced on the water. The light danced on the edge of a blade. The wind danced in the blades of grass. The flies danced along the corpse curled in the forest underbrush. The adrenaline danced in her veins. The earth danced around the sun. Everything everywhere was a convoluted dance.
She threw herself into the air with all of her might, her desperately thin body shaking as she danced. Her trusty pointe shoes hit the ground silently, and she spun and spun until she was dizzy and felt sick. That was when she gave the audience a big smile and glided gracefully off the stage and promptly emptied the scarce contents of her stomach into an old bucket.
“Alice, dear God,” Natasha Popov, her gorgeous Russian best friend said with a sigh, stroking Alice’s dark hair and pulling her to her feet. “Get yourself together, lyubov moya. Go drink some water. You are an utter mess right now.”
the little girl danced with all her might. she did this just to get the attention of a work crazed mom who never seemed to care. as the girl danced she watched her mom she was for sure going to have her attention for she had the lead part, but as she watched her mom got up from her seat and left. the little girl stumbled and ran off the stage crying wondering why she never got her attention.
The light danced in my eyes. I saw her image flicker and fracture like a kaleidoscope of color. I put my arms out so she would lean herself into me. She disappeared and I wept.
We danced, and the sun dipped its hat in homage to our choreography. We danced, and the trees bent into curtsies as we swayed beside them in the wind. We danced, and the grass caressed our shoes while we laid tracks down with our weight. We pretended that, when we danced, the earth stopped what it was doing and watched. But in truth, when we danced, it was dark, and cold, and now even the stranger creatures of the night were intrigued by the contortions of our bodies.
She danced to the beat of the drum. Even as her mind filled with visions of what had happened that night – the bending, twisting, the sound of her parents screams – she allowed the emotions to flow through her, streaming through her spirit. Erin could feel the glow of grief at her fingertips, and as her feet glided against the dance floor, the tears that came were wild with life and fury.
Dancing is a lot like talking, everybody can do it and comes naturally if you let it. The only thing that changes is how or why we dance. Perhaps we dance to standout, perhaps we dance to fit in. Some people dance to impress others around them, while others dance because they could not care less about what others around them think. We can dance if we want to, we can leave your friends behind. Cause your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance well they’re are no friends of mine.
She felt like leaping into the air, but she kept her feet on the ground as she twisted and cheered with all her friends. There was nothing better than dancing, she decided. Nothing.
She whirled around into Patrick and he grinned, putting his arms around her.
Well, maybe there was something better.
It was one of those competitions where they pay real money to the winners, to the ones still standing after the band left exhausted and the record had run out of groove, and all the other competitors had left the last couple on the floor turning circles tothe echos of the music, waiting to be told to stop they had won.
When she dances, her hair flies out around her. You can’t tell what colour it is. It’s brown and gold, it’s blonde and copper. It’s beautiful. You’ve pined after her since you were children, since she is perfection. But you’re not her type. She’s more into guys.
Last time when I danced with you was the only time I danced.
Ever since then, time has been dancing with me.
I dreamed I was a dancing princess. I would glide gracefully across the stage and everybody was in awe, but yet it was just a dream a dream that would never come true a thought of hope.
The sunlight shone through the stained glass window in the chapel. It created tiny pieces of rainbow that were scattered all over the floor and pews. She sat and looked up at the cross hanging in the front and the rainbows were strewn across her delicate face. They changed her brown eyes into a window to heaven.
I danced through the doors of my office with a grin on my face, excited about the day ahead. Just as the doors shut behind me, a voice spoke up from behind my desk.
“You sure look like you’re having fun,” the girl in my chair said, voice dripping with derision, “Mom.”
Pulling me near you sigh into my ear, “Is tonight a lasting treasure?” We sway completely, fluid and easy, “…and…” you hesitate, tilt my head so we come eye to eye, “…will you still be here tomorrow?”
Off in the distance we hear the midnight toll: seconds here, now all gone.
The love light in these eyes, that’s what you question? I’d pull away in frustration if I didn’t sometimes wonder of you the same.
a past tense word for dance.
a movement in which the body sways.
a movement in the body.
She danced as she thought no one was watching. But unknown to her Mr. D’souza was by the door. She winced in pain, grimaced but nevertheless carried on. It was important to her. She was dying. Only, no one knew but her.
and we danced.
Augustus can dance in the sky with other peoples. They will dance so crazy and have a lot of fun. And he will never think about cancer!
Hazel‘s love for Augustus was always so bright, that she wanted to cheer and danced when she saw him.
They danced on a party. Hazel and Augustus danced together.
Dear Gus
Some times I think that you would be here. Than I start to dance with you I my thougths.
They danced in the Anne-Frank museum.
I love to dance with this guy who says he has two left feet on the dance floor. But I don’t see it. What I see is this guy who could be a champion, Which of cause, as you know, I am. And what else is true? That’s for you to guess.
And they danced the night away. They knew, once the night was done, it was all over. So they kept dancing. And dancing. And dancing some more. Moments of sheer bliss. Moments of wonder. All trying desperately to stave off the morning.
I danced until I couldn’t dance anymore. The way our bodies moved together was deeper than the ocean itself. I moved, he moved. He moved, I moved. We danced and danced and danced.
Lena danced at the club. but without alcohol it felt awkward. she didn’t like the music and she couldn’t dance to music she didn’t like – it felt inauthentic. she looked around desperately at the other women and hoped that someone hot would approach her and dance with her and kiss her because that was the point, right? Or was the point to listen to this B Grade celebrity DJing some shit RnB tunes? She looked at her phone and started texting people.
She shrugged her shoulders back and smoothed down her hair. The lollipop in her mouth clattered against her teeth. The worn rubber soles of her shoes were thin beneath her feet.
I danced with all my heart and all my will. I didn’t think I just danced
He danced through the night. Waiting for someone to came and dance with him. This happened every weekend. Until someone did. Someone, he didn’t know who, he didn’t really care, came and dance with him. There was no music, only them, dancing together.
As they held their hands together. they moved with incredible foot works.
With grace and passion, They go along with the flow of the music.
As onlookers look with wonder, they continued, unaware of what is happening.
As they took their last step, they realized what was happening.
They took a bow.
They danced.
As the sunlight danced on his hair all she could do is stare. The love that swelled within her chest threated to climb up and choke her. Seeing him like this, so free and young always took her back. To the days when they would dance in the back of his truck with declares of love frozen in the air around them. She could see them dancing in the kitchen, laughing with trying to stay upright, leaning on each other as the alcohol coursed through their systems. She could see him dancing with their children, singing softly and holding them tight. And she knew this was the only man for her.
i find myself constantly disgusted
by the commodification of indifference
the socialization of privacy
how we publicize our reality
danced on our graves
we sold our solidarity
to a company of commoners
who preached singularity
I danced my way through the night. I have been practicing for months now, and all my hard work has payed off. I can hear the audiences applause as I make my final move, tears are welling up in my eyes. I love this form of art.
I danced with my 13 month old daughter last night as I was putting her to bed.
Come Away with Me by Norah Jones was playing.
“Danced” of course is a strong word on her side, but she was in my arms as I swayed across the room.
My tears.
The leaves danced on the water. The light danced on the edge of a blade. The wind danced in the blades of grass. The flies danced along the corpse curled in the forest underbrush. The adrenaline danced in her veins. The earth danced around the sun. Everything everywhere was a convoluted dance.
She threw herself into the air with all of her might, her desperately thin body shaking as she danced. Her trusty pointe shoes hit the ground silently, and she spun and spun until she was dizzy and felt sick. That was when she gave the audience a big smile and glided gracefully off the stage and promptly emptied the scarce contents of her stomach into an old bucket.
“Alice, dear God,” Natasha Popov, her gorgeous Russian best friend said with a sigh, stroking Alice’s dark hair and pulling her to her feet. “Get yourself together, lyubov moya. Go drink some water. You are an utter mess right now.”
the little girl danced with all her might. she did this just to get the attention of a work crazed mom who never seemed to care. as the girl danced she watched her mom she was for sure going to have her attention for she had the lead part, but as she watched her mom got up from her seat and left. the little girl stumbled and ran off the stage crying wondering why she never got her attention.
The light danced in my eyes. I saw her image flicker and fracture like a kaleidoscope of color. I put my arms out so she would lean herself into me. She disappeared and I wept.
We danced, and the sun dipped its hat in homage to our choreography. We danced, and the trees bent into curtsies as we swayed beside them in the wind. We danced, and the grass caressed our shoes while we laid tracks down with our weight. We pretended that, when we danced, the earth stopped what it was doing and watched. But in truth, when we danced, it was dark, and cold, and now even the stranger creatures of the night were intrigued by the contortions of our bodies.
She danced to the beat of the drum. Even as her mind filled with visions of what had happened that night – the bending, twisting, the sound of her parents screams – she allowed the emotions to flow through her, streaming through her spirit. Erin could feel the glow of grief at her fingertips, and as her feet glided against the dance floor, the tears that came were wild with life and fury.
those days swirled
before me
passing swiftly in droves
lilting notes that reminisce
of long gone flowers
in the bloom
dusty earth that billows
in the wind that swept me up
for a moment
I danced
Dancing is a lot like talking, everybody can do it and comes naturally if you let it. The only thing that changes is how or why we dance. Perhaps we dance to standout, perhaps we dance to fit in. Some people dance to impress others around them, while others dance because they could not care less about what others around them think. We can dance if we want to, we can leave your friends behind. Cause your friends don’t dance and if they don’t dance well they’re are no friends of mine.
She felt like leaping into the air, but she kept her feet on the ground as she twisted and cheered with all her friends. There was nothing better than dancing, she decided. Nothing.
She whirled around into Patrick and he grinned, putting his arms around her.
Well, maybe there was something better.
It was one of those competitions where they pay real money to the winners, to the ones still standing after the band left exhausted and the record had run out of groove, and all the other competitors had left the last couple on the floor turning circles tothe echos of the music, waiting to be told to stop they had won.