The Midnight Dance

It's the midnight dance, last call before the lights go out and the harvest moon glows brightly in the darkness. The room is full with partners sweeping close, hand in hand, floating liltly across the floor, snug and tightly wrapped in each others arms, lips upon their necks. Eyes drift up slow gorged yet wanting then frantic, eyeing every masked face searching for another partner. Witches grin, envied green flowing into the arms of passion burned red devils. Pumpkins glow, with eerie lanterns waltzing with the Headless Horseman's horse. Pale ghostly sheeted ethereal spectres, gently clasp skeletal fingers with dainty delicacy. Superman tingles the webbing of Spiderman, with Wonder Woman caught between them. Batman scowls at Robin's teenage angst closeted tights. Scary menacing clowns throw punches at pocked faced zombies. A frail wall flower pretty in soft and elegant pink into the arms of the muscular strong Huntsman. A piano player plucks the keys in black and white as the debutante swoons, falling graceful into his arms and the dance comes to an end.