feathers, dancers & metal lust

A collection of poetry, flash fiction and other things.

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15. tonight we dance

 

there’s a tiny dancer in my head;

she fills my mind with pirouettes,

her feet twisting high and low,

she tells me all the ways to glow.

 

and when the music is on,

the compulsion grabs upon,

she begins to sway,

but my feet can’t find the way.

 

she tumbles,

i fall,

she slides;

i crawl.

 

there’s a tiny dancer in my head;

she fills my mind with pirouettes,

her arms flowing straight and bent,

i learnt (by heart) the ways she went.

 

but as strings are plucked,

she declares “you are fucked

she shakes her head and looks away;

again, my feet can’t find the way. 

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