Sirens

Last night, on the dance floor, I felt it:
A curious urge, this need to belong
To somebody, or several people, possessed
To be had. Slick bodies dripping with sweat
The way ice slips down crags when it melts
Had me, faces thrown back to the ceiling, rearing in pleasure,
Had me, but what had me most was the swollen throbbing
Of nipple on nipple, jean against cock, bronze necks rubbing
Like pieces of chalk. Dancing alone, or with desires as crippling
As a three-hundred pound, black drag queen, it was difficult
Not to wobble all over the place, barely touching, brushing
The forbidden, not daring, weaving to a music
No more subtle than the pounding of a beat, but woven,
Spun around, and twisting like a puppet in the hands
Of my clumsy desire, their strain pulled on the feet.