"Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da-da; three three seven, walk with it, one-two-three-four-five-six-seven; left-and-right, left-and-right, left-and-right-and-left-and-right."

The feet keep the eight count beat in a simple march tempo, left, right, left, right, the zills ring with a different rhythm, small brass cymbals strapped to middle fingers & thumbs, hips draped with coins and beads swaying with each little step, a constant drum beating an ancient rhyme.

We walked in a circle, sidestepped, turned directions, walked back to our starting point, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-four-five-six-seven.

My Belle & her tall lovely friend Elle came to class last night and it was nice to see them both. Belle has cut her hair & dyed it some flaming orange color. When I first met her it was black underneath and some wicked dark burgundy on top, and thick and long. Her natural color is dirty blond, but after knowing her four years I can't imagine her with normal looking hair at all. She wears silver jewelry. A lot of silver jewelry. I had forgotten about her beautiful cheekbones and green eyes.

Elle had her wild black mane tamed into two braided pigtails but soft escaped wisps brushed against her forehead and neck. They often pass for sisters, although where Elle is long and lean, Belle is petite and voluptuous, and they don't look much alike except for similar facial expressions often acquired by people who spend a lot of time together.

Belle was my first dance partner, and I love dancing with her. We're very empathic towards eachother, & although my arms & legs are longer we're essentially the same size & our bodies move in very complimentary ways to eachother.

Elle is a foot taller than either of us & with her hair unbound looks like a banshee, a lush large mouth and an incredible long lithe body. The sort of girl who stops traffic. The three of us together all dressed in black was delightful to see, and I would love to work on a dance with the two of them. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-four-five-six-seven. Powerful numbers.

After class we exchanged hugs & made arrangements for meeting on Sunday, & Elle insisted on driving me to my car even though it was less than a block away. I climbed into the backseat & Elle drove around the corner & parked behind my car. I squeezed Elle's hand & Belle leaned back between the seats with her lips all puckered so I kissed them, which made us both giggle. We're often very flirtatious with eachother & will cuddle & hug & I've kissed her cheek but never her lips. It was nice and I will have to do it again. It was comfortable, and although I hoped I didn't have stinky post-dancing breath I didn't worry about the meaning of the kiss beyond the fact that I adore her. Da-da-da, da-da-da, da-da-da-da-da-da-da.