घुड़सवार

They had swirled the floor to a frenzy

drawn into a corner I,

hoping for escape tiptoed past.

As the trance settled under a steady beat

made itself manifest in misting foam on palms

the dancers, red in cheek and laughter

jolted free measure by frolicking measure,

those carvers of the moment.

With a flourish then

I felt the musty air blow out

having set loose the window panes,

the music drew to a close in a whimper.

The dancers shimmering panted still in rhythm,

it was time to carve shapes with silence.

With their breath freezing sweat cold on the bow of their lips

every movement now was circumspect.

What would their dance now draw on

freedom or its tussle with itself?

Before the dance commenced

The dancers smiled.