in the spotlight

his passion

black painted nails grip a microphone,
and he clutches his passion.

he arches his back,
as black strands fall
into his dark eyes

his muscles strain as he screams
his heart into the night

eyes squeezed tight
a slow breath escapes his mouth;
a metal ring through his lower lip
scrapes the rough surface of the mic

head pulled back once again,
he looks adoringly at the crowd.

the music swarms around us,
and our bodies rock
to the swollen crescendo of sound.