The Dance (in progress)

She works her way across the room like a snake
Hanging on limbs and clinging to solid objects
With a sharp tongue, she senses her way, smelling its taste
This lizard movement, this chameleon dance is so fluent that
She Blends and melts into the room, taking on its rhythm, its mood
She swallows it whole and feeds off the energy
I watch in awe spellbound by her talent, her art
It is so beautiful and graceful that I can't turn away
I smile to myself and wonder if anyone else is aware
But no one in the room is watching her debut
They are all involved in their own little worlds
So wrapped up that this show has no audience
Except for me and I am still paying for my ticket