The Dance

As we dance silently …

Our bodies touch, I feel your heat on my

chest and your scent arrest’s me in a state

of excitement, as my hands slowly move

around your waist and brush against your

hips ever so slowly, spinning me into the

captive wheel before us.


We are in sync as the clay spins ever so

slowly, and our hands create with every

slow turn, while the softness of the clay

on our fingertips moves up to the palms

of our hands, where we sweat with every

twist and turn and rub of each other’s



The creation before us is only offset by

our soft caress, as my chin rest’s on your

neck I feel the pulse of your life under it,

and am excited by every beat of your heart

on mine, as it pulsates against the heavenly

oily scent that radiates pearls of sweat

down the nape of your neck, teasing my

hot breath there and making it dance and

screaming for more.


Just as the most peaceful still water can

change its reflection, or the simplest hum

of a hummingbird can stir excitement,

we as young lovers together like this

can reflect t our soft skin on each other

and be bathed and colored by a simple

mold of clay in each other’s hands.


As we dance silently lifting, rubbing

and shaping our lives are entwined in

lust for our art as we are twisted in this

labyrinth of sensations as we continue

to rest our hand on that hard roundness

and shape it to our desire.


Let us slide down the thin passageway

of time, as we drift and dream in each

other’s arms, touching deep with our

fingertips as we explore what lies before

us on this wheel of time. Let us drink

our love for one another in this bliss of

molded clay, as the water thickens

before us and turns to wine to caress our

lips and quench our lustful desire for

each other this night in front of the wheel.


© Copyright by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved


Vincent Moore
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Vincent Moore

Vincent Moore pens his thoughts about many things and has a style all his own. Sometimes, he parties with words excessively and it becomes necessary to publish quickly lest his work be lost in the dark corners of his room or his mind. Vincent will lead you into mysterious worlds that are strange yet somehow familiar, worlds that will leave you unsettled and breathless for more. He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published. In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.

2 thoughts on “The Dance

  • August 7, 2018 at 8:21 PM

    Ah, the dance of life, and here expressed with metaphor and fine imagery to evoke those desires and feelings so well. At the crest of a wave two souls meld in time’s keeping and passion sings an eternal song of joy. Great work Vincent, filled with warmth and sensuality. Cheers!


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