Pure happiness, or rather, an electricity that
Explodes, takes flight, spills out
From an unknown place into the deep
Between the spirit and the heart
It isn’t just a simple sequence of different movements,
But a power that unites mind and body.
A magic that makes you metamorphose, every time,
Like a butterfly in spring.
The body becomes light,
It’s the pen with which you write your own story,
Every movement, every breath
Say what the mouth cannot.
Counting from one to eight:
The emotional dance