Poetry

my year on the dance floor

6 August 2019

I forgot how many friends I had

when liquid became sweet rivers

of molten courage gushing 

through each bone

and fatal fissure

 

drowning in the weight of

becoming, nobody 

could have guessed the

simple noise it 

left ringing in our ears

 

rhythm sinks in synchrony

below nights tied down by double vision

our faces touched by light are

blinding and binding to this

lost tomorrow


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