Thursday, February 21, 2008

this dance
















twisting my fingers
through dirty, tangled hair-
working out the knots,
ripping through them-
no apologies
staring at nothing,
taking the form of something
blank space and time;
posing as walls, the ceiling, a coat rack, trees outside the window
i find myself in a meditative state,
somewhere between pondering
and making decisions

i like it here
because it's very non-committal,
because i am not bound to or by anything
i find myself
in this circular maze of dialogue,
unique to any other labyrinth
i've knowingly walked into
this is goofy and silly and ridiculous
so abstract and over-generalized,
with just enough details
to keep me hanging on
wanting more
damnit
i've never danced so gingerly
around what i'm really trying to say
mechanically vulnerable
just enough disclosures
amorous words get my point across,
enough 'let me just be honest with you...' moments
for her to know
i am willing to throw myself out there,
a little bit
just enough
i've never maneuvered through anything
in such a rickety way,
this is a genuine, wholesome dance-
there's music and a hardwood floor,
we're standing closely together,
hands linked, arms wrapped-
there is movement,
yes
this must be dancing....
swaying back and forth,
waiting nervously for the music to stop-
for a kiss
or a return to our seats
spinning
dipping
allowing my hesitations and expectations
to move freely through me,
without holding them up in my chest,
in that tight hard-to-breathe-place
between head and heart
allowing her-
to have this dance.

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