Dance Floor Captivity

Tears of joy in a rain of hearts.

Clouds spread across the wall with flames engulfed by a passive wave.

In this day I found my pain,

My freedom,

And my closure.

 

The wind takes hold and I begin to wonder,

"Can the sand grasp the knowledge at hand?

Can birds sing in tongues?

Can freedom be what it sets out to be?"

 

The beat begins to studder,

And I dance this rain of hearts off my sleeve.

Shaking off the has-been,

The what-could-you-be.

My ego begins to unfold a layer of myself I have never met.

This set shakes my bones, rattling my essence.

I am brought to life,

Death,

The in-between and what-can't-be-seen.

 

Bones shatter.

I am liquid.

I am the floor in which you dance.

The wind in which the sand can never grasp.

I am mask.

 

As I sway,

I see prosperity in a two-step with cynicism.

The absence of clarity break dances with optimism.

I sense spirits on the clock as shadows pop and lock.

All the while I make decisions with every stomp.

 

Suddenly,

The music stops.

And for once,

I welcome all my thoughts.

 

The sound of leaves means the trees have trickled in

This symbiotic vision allows me to mimic the precision of the prolific dancer.

 

I try.

 

To answer questions I once thought were rhetorical.

I aim to engrave the floor with an impression that will linger

In all the minds of dancing ties I intertwine with.

I lift.

My mind with the strobe light switch,

Which has empathy in it's grip.

I align with someone's refined twist which shakes off those who insist.

 

The beat starts up again

And I begin to see the reflection of a friend who danced his way past center stage,

In the form of mist.

 

In this moment, I consist of presence that disrupts anxiety.

A tango between the angles of unstable energy.

I am merely me,

In the moment,

Dancing.

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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