A heartbeat expands to the throbbing beat of a drum. A wailing voice raised in sorrowful song is transformed into the complex steps and smooth motions of a dancer. Her back arched, her arms raised gracefully, her long, tiered red dress flares around her curvy body. She uses her body, uses the heartfelt song, to express her passions. Her breasts heave from the exertion, straining against the tight red bodice of her dress. Her cheeks are flushed. Her lips are parted as she pants gently. Her eyes are closed: she is closed off to the external world, allowing the music to transport her to an internal place of powerful emotions.
She must close her eyes to better hear that personal beat of her feelings. Powerful though they flow in her blood, life has required her to be reserved and unemotional. She must bury deep beneath the facade she shows the world to express her heart and soul.
Others see her as a reserved woman. She normally speaks quietly to her children. She and her husband interact with respect. She does not talk much to those she doesn’t know, and almost always her words are soft and well-mannered. She meets peoples’ eyes and smiles her greetings, often to be passed over for not having the extroverted dynamic that seems to attract people like moths to a flame. Each time someone turns away for an easier person to know, her hazel eyes darken with hurt. No one has the time to dig deeper, to find out what she’s all about.
She feels the fire burning inside. Although the flames lick constantly at her, they have not melted the glacial reserve that freezes her actions.
