Susan Senator

Raqs beledi
la danse orientale
belly dance

Any way you say it it is magical, romantic, mystical. Foreign. Ancient. Alive with the power of women. You dance together, you dance alone. Either way, you give yourself up to something very old and powerful. You can’t do it wrong, and yet, it is extremely difficult to do it right. You stand completely still, and break a sweat with your effort.

I’ve got to do it soon and expel the demons. Burn away grief so that it becomes beauty. Tie on the sea green scarf, the heaviest one, with all the silver sewn onto it. Over the blood red skirt. The red top I made, too. Green sparkly earrings, down to my neck.

This morning I did the belly roll perfectly. My skin rippled, one muscle after another, like I had swallowed something alive. It went down my belly, dipping into the navel, now stamped by the Goddess with a silver jeweled ball. My belly is not pretty, but it is strong.

And if I bend my knees just right and push from the waist, push out one hip, bring it back, then the other, bring it back —
I get a perfect Eight. It looks like Infinity. I could dance forever. I wish I could dance forever.