June 29, 2015
Spin
It swirls as it moves,
an off grace about it,
like a dancer on an abandoned
stage,
waiting for her audience anyway,
practicing as she goes,
her pale skin hiding her
rage.
Only on the surface does she
boil, covered by foundations.
Somehow she stays animateed,
her every twirl, every move is
calculated.
Measured and repeated in
perfect time with the movement
of the wind, yet her actions are
slightly sluggish, vintage, completely
outdated.
Because everyone’s
gone.
And now the recital is all
wrong.
She just wants someone
to sit, to watch, see her true
form,
her passion, her fluidity,
the calm in the eye of the
storm.