date of publication: march 18, 2024
i think im experiencing
a side of humanity ive never experienced before.
it is uncannily present in every pore of society
in the fixated stares, in everything that comes over the radio
in advertising, in gossip and on tattoos and in slang and in dreams
it is left and right and especially below you
i spent years afraid of it
i danced like i was dancing with fire, like
it could burn me and tear me apart, like
the only way to dance was to allow myself to burn
to build callouses on my hands so that they could not bleed
to dance hard enough that i couldn't feel the pain anymore
and then i wished not to dance at all
for i was tired to the bone
and because i could feel glass under my bare feet
i begged to stop
and my voice caught in my throat at the sight of tears
but even if my begging wasn't heard
it still scratched at my throat, still
choked me
i learned i could dance any dance
as long as i had someone to dance with me
and then, for the first time
for the first time in my life
i heard the music.
i could see the way he moved his arms, now
to a beat, the way he swayed
was to drums, the way he bent back
was because the climax was arriving
and he was exhilarated with the beauty of the song
i'd written a lot of music, but i'd never heard it with my own ears
and now I find myself turned completely around
standing in a place most men have stood
in the middle of the dancefloor, a hand extended to you
waiting for you to take it
waiting
waiting for you to take it
and here is where i would've scoffed, would've said
waiting
would've said it wasn't worth it
waiting
because i never understood
waiting
why people begged to dance
waiting
violence, it was, to force someone to dance
waiting
when nobody wants to dance
waiting
because dancing
waiting
is pointless
waiting
there's not even any music
waiting
i won't make you dance, won't make the words clog up your throat
won't choke you
but close your eyes
and listen to the music
do you wanna dance, my love?
.
one, two, three, four
.
five, six, seven eight
.
nine, ten.
.
.
.
i don't wanna dance slow
YOU ARE READING
Assorted Poetry
شِعرI had a vent account on Poetizer, but it went paid, so I had to save the poems here. They're not particularly effortful, just vomited prose, but I had nothing else to do with them. They may be added to, or not. Largely not too graphic, but there is...
