may.
the season of flowers
when spring is so springlike
that it's almost summer
and there is golden honey
s t i c k i n g to my skin
and my hair is black and shining
in the golden sunlight.
may.
I will come then
dressed in multicolored silks
sparkling bangles up to my arms
my curly hair in a disarrayed braid
and jewels across my ears and throat
glittering in sun-soaked earthy skin
and eyes like clever a m b e r .
they pay for the
s t o r m s
inside me.
may.
I dance because it is my craft
because the dance is within my blood
but I only dance for one person
even here and now
when it is not may
and there is no sun, only winter
when they call me to dance
girl with jewels and dance in her blood
I can only see y o u
sitting at the far end of the table
with that half-smile full of springtime.
may.
if I am the dancer
then you are the audience.
and when I spin like a
h u r r i c a n e
and everyone is clapping for me
I still will only see y o u .
may.
I begin to grow flowers again
I must cultivate sunlight early on
my dance is yours, just as my heart is.
I will finally dance for you again
and I will b r e a k winter
until we have fallen
d
e
e
p
into
may,
m a y ,
m a y .
// TALES OF THE DANCER AND THE OLDEST LOVE STORIES WRITTEN IN THE SKY // HER DIAMOND TEETH AND GOLD EYES ARE A WEALTH THAT BELONGS TO HIM.
