Breaking Into Funk

the right song just hits

after an eternity of disappointment

my body thoroughly in tune

the movements somewhat suspicious,

not ashamed like other ones

my ears beaten into submission

my face far too flushed

the mirror ball comes into position,

hot and hideous tongues

rhymically joined by

discotheque synths and kick drums,

raw skin on chic flares

with dripping mustaches,

the floor forces powerful pairs

where are my sunglasses?

juiced and dance fueled

the nightowls gyrate precisely

as the tension ramped up fast,

the greatest song ends, abruptly