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The retros launched me high into the dome. My consciousness condensed once more into the eternal now. The ancient lunar structures acoustics sending the music vibrating through me and the crowd gathered below.

I lose myself in the twists and turns of an elegant flow. Gravity releases briefly before I gently come falling back down its curvy embrace. The pulse of the song is waking inside me. A buzzing blankness, focused into each beat. I am the next note, an endless stream of perfection in motion. The microgravity barely restrains my mindless exaltations. I am nothing but the rhythm. As I flow up and down through the great steel jungle of the dome. I pivot perfectly around a pole flying lightly into my next aerial pirouette.

It was worth giving up thought to move with perfect grace and poise. To be the music. To become an avatar of bliss. I descend from my last apex toward the center stage spiraling down the central shaft that meets with the platform far below.

The trodes pulse pulling me into the music again as the beat thickens like syrup in my mind.

Bliss.