Club Dancer

Written by: Edmund Siejka

From our table
We drank
And laughed
Made cutting remarks
Each one of us 
Trying to sound smart.

Ordering another round
Heavy hands rested on the table
Waiting for the night to end.

I saw her dancing by herself
Others noticed her too 
Dancing with her eyes closed
Looking to nowhere in particular
Colored lights played on her skin
All the while she danced
Precariously
Like an angel on top of a pin
Moving and moving
Ever so gracefully.

Some said she was dancing for herself
Someone else criticized her dress
But there was tenseness in the air
As men followed her
With a wildness in their eyes.

I said she was dancing for herself
Spinning and spinning
Towards an unthinkable
Place in the night
The table erupted in laughter
And another round was ordered.

The night slowly reached its climax
Empty glasses littered our table
As we fumbled to pay the bill.

When I looked up 
The dance floor was empty
Our dancer was gone
Somewhere in the night.

Struggling, I made my way home
Through the empty streets
Searching the occasional light 
Left on 
In some empty apartment
Waiting to welcome a wayward traveler.

In the fog of night
Her memory
Tugged at me
And I wondered if she too
Had left a light on.