Dance. I'll remember you differently.
There is no platonic research, no rehearsal. Nor,
Can you come early, nor respond
afterward.
I have the flu,
I'm old
I was never right beside you.
Gloomily, I turn a weak faucet on my feet.
The suspense of my steps thrills me--
But I see them as they are, one as conspicuous
and unclear as the next.
I know which step follows the right after
so long--
And you,
Are so strange to everyone for whom
We dress and wish.
Skinamarink
-
When I was little, me and my younger brother would play a game where we’d
stare at each other’s faces in the dark until we transformed into hideous
monst...
2 days ago