He stands on the stage bathed in white light,
matted dark hair curls around bright, intense eyes.
Stood like a God in his All Mighty temple,
a multitude of followers gather to worship at his feet.
Fervent fingers caress the guitar over his shoulder
and a peppering of his sweat rains down on the auditorium,
in a hot delivery of every magnetic beat.
Thousands of thirsty eyes peer from the darkness
and hungry ears anticipate the taste of something sweet...
When,
Suddenly, a stubbled jaw plants a wet kiss on the microphone:
Electric,
Enigmatic,
Enticing,
I tremble;
overcome with pangs of heat.
I feel an emotion so strong, immediate, lustful,
as I stand there in the darkness tingling with sensory overload.
A desire so powerful, lively and exciting,
eventually reaches climax via a scream at the stage.
Rather an underwhelming response to this unique seduction!
And I realise I am one with the wet, dark masses,
screaming and pulsing in one frantic movement;
just another cog in this manufactured tantric machine.
So I step back for a moment, for one hot, sticky second…
Slide back to reality, sobered and collected,
to tell myself this as I snort with laughter:
I am nothing more than just another fan,
and that God on the stage,
is nothing more than just another man.
Time for a beer and a wee.
About the Creator
Rachel Lightfoot
I like to play with words.
Poems, mostly.
https://rachellightfoot.wixsite.com/my-site
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