The first time I said yes
to go to a club
I regretted my answer immediately afterwards.
I did not like the beats,
the closeness of the people.
I did not like the expectations,
the dancing to feel noticed.
I wanted anything but to be seen.

So it took me by surprise
that when I tried again,
this time in a country far away,
I felt the joy of movement.
My throat raw from the singalong music,
they were playing golden oldies.

We sneaked in a couple of beers
and people smoked inside,
the ceiling was low so my tall friend couldn’t do
too much up and down jumping.

And all I remember is that China
is the country where I learned how to dance.