Dancing in India
by Meredith Johnson
We joined out of instinct, a natural desire
to move with what moved. In the fervor
of bodies we were awkward and new-
a frenzy of arms that waved to the sky.
The crowd opened to our white penetration
and we flooded like cattle to the center of the center,
the sweet tight circle that was hazy with drums.
I was dancing from fear.
I was dancing with a hand up my shirt,
a slithering limb that touched me like good meat.
My God, I was an offering
they dragged from the gutter and covered with bangles
to make a nice noise. I was ripe.
Up through the vendors we rose,
up past the churches, crazily, crazily,
we danced in our circle while the people cried
Yes! and the drums thundered Now!
and my body flared up in the womb of itself.
