Hot and sweaty
Like tropical heat,
In the background the music
Has a primaeval beat.
The dancers move
From an inner need
That makes their hearts sing
And their souls bleed.
Clothes cling to bodies
As sense pulsate,
The look in their eyes
Recognises their fate.
Filled with obsession
They'll dance til they drop,
Their ears filled with music
That never will stop.
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