Something alive

From a dance festival in a rural Nepal

Something alive

I watched you dance,
your lean body dressed
in the swirl of colours;
burning red, smouldering black
and golden
that of the blazing sun
and the desert sand
alive now
under your spinning feet.

As I watched you dance,
something's become alive again;
it's long been silenced and numbed,
something I've taught myself
to forget all about.
The parched sand stirred
from under your feet
was thirstily clinging to your moist skin.
And what I felt right then
was that desire
of long tongues of flame
wanting nothing but burn.