The stranger dancing

the way she moves, so in tune with music, aligned with the stars, her constellations amusing, she is so ahead of rythm, the music would need more tuning.
she is zoned in, one with moment, of course owns it, the way her hips move, it’s as if she is on some hypnotic potion, true passion is in her  movement, it’s like poetry in motion,
she’s like the diamond in the rough, that’s now shining in the open,
her beauty on full display, broken from the chains she’s freely roaming.
In her own world, and we’re the audience to her pole dance,  her presence releases dopamine, creating thoughts of sexual romance.
she’s brings a high to life that drugs can’t provide, a colorful soul black and white can’t hide, and when she performs she takes over like a storm,  and brings a sliver lining to my darkened mind, I dream for the day to make her mine, until then I just watch, as the hour glass that is her steals time.