I overhear my upstairs neighbor and his wife argue about monogamy. He wants to sleep with other people, he's turned on by other people. She agrees for him to do this. He makes his way downstairs and flirts with me and a group of women I'm with. We are younger ballerinas visiting Colorado for a stint. We gallop through my father's old pantry, next to the washing machine where my mother hangs her Bruce Springsteen poster. As he flirts, we leap away in pirouettes. Then I'm in NYC or maybe Portland, maybe Galway Ireland. There are cobblestones and stairs and stores under apartments. I take my bike from a garage. I've forgotten my bike lock so instead I use Elmer's glue. I walk my bike up the stairs to a dance studio. I lay my naked body in front of the teacher and think about telling her how it's hard for me to come most ways. Maybe dancing will open up my body more. I'm aroused by the thought of her touching me. I open my legs wide.
