The dancers strolled into the coffee shop at
bleary eyed, hair tossed, windblown
Post performance, some still in costume, others half undressed
carelessly displaying their tights
garnering attention with their sequined movement
they moved in a group, out of routine I suppose,
toward a back table,
filled with fingerless gloves wrapped around coffee mugs, whipped cream mustaches and three different conversations.
They had no intention of sharing anything
making them, of course
ten times as attractive.