Sunday, 22 March 2015

Static twirls

You came, all smirks and colognes,
A crisp button down, a contrasting necktie,
But involuntarily, you built a reflex.

In me, to hide my discoloured teeth,
Gather my umbrella cut creases,
And look down at crooked toes.

Still, you yanked my halterneck,
Not for a better view,
Instead trace my bruised spine.

Then, to attain a perfect grip,
On a pair of drooping shoulders,
You let yourself also melt.

Now ready and set to twirl me around,
You stapled that skater shift back,
And let me go about, like a spinning top.

However, towards the end,
I clutched onto my sleeve,
To the much hyped, "Shall we dance?"

~Poem 9

Did they really dance?
(Picture credits: Richard S. Johnson)