A Shrewd Dance

The top of the stairs is a lonely
place to
sit

buttoned up
blotted out
a
human splotch spying

on a beautiful
dance

her name is dusty
a cryptogram
enticing
men of solution

to
descend

she extends a maze with her hand
he reaches
to
her

one touch
a crushing warmth
he
enters a
twisted, bending, twirling
riddle

at the bottom of the stairs
from the bottom
of a
casual heart

where dusk sways
in
out

entangling him into her
crafty dance

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11 thoughts on “A Shrewd Dance

  1. What made you not like this piece? You leave me without words. This:
    “one touch
    a crushing warmth
    he
    enters a
    twisted, bending, twirling
    riddle”
    in particular, is beautiful. Thank you for sharing.

  2. Sort of ambiguous, mysterious. You probably don’t like it because you usually go straight to the essential in some of the dark places of the mind. This one has a more dreamy quality to it. Moonlike. Not really “dark” but definitely “dusk”. Like a hesitation between dark and light. The top of the stairs before the plunge. You have perfectly captured this “in- between” mood.

    1. Oh yes! Exactly! I have trouble liking the ones that aren’t rich with darkness and disturbing filth, but when I read them later, I enjoy them for their own personal creativity. If that makes sense. I speak of them as if they are characters…they sort of are to me! Thank you!!!

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