Dancing with Demons

Yesterday, today, and perhaps tomorrow I will be doing the Electric slide with myself, with the part of me noone sees, or perhaps they see it and I'm the one who is dillusional.. I am, I have been.. I continue to wrestle with these skeletals who have earmarked my life.. I sassha around the room with my hat cocked to the side, sipping a glass of scotch as the woman with the martini looks into my sad but sexy eyes and calls me into the thrust of her desire- as I kiss her hard on the mouth she yelps, partly out of fear, partly out of desire and I can feel her becoming impregnated by my sperm, and yet this is all a dream.. because her I am on a different night, in a different hotel, surrounded by men, who are in their own right.. the owners of each other destinities, i shrink back into a corner unsure of exactly where i fit into this thing.. and i observe.. i observe their hard filled bodies tubbing against each other, the hot saliva that runs from the bottom lip.. i think their going to kiss but then they do not.. they embrace and i can see the libido of one from the poking phallis that has awaken in the darkness that has now become his heaven because now they are rocking down the house with house beats and i am glued to this corner with intensity running still down my veins across my shoulders and back and yet and still i cant find the rythmn, i can't catch the beat.. this is me on any saturday or friday or any other night when i am dancing with me.. with my own blackness.. with my own sex.. i can't catch the rtythmn and i wonder is it even inside of me....