Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Sidestepped advances are the worst kinds of dances
And you could never dance well to begin with

Could you?

I am proud of my recklessness
Careless abandon
You are cowed by your own life
And dissatisfaction

You didn’t come here to dance, though. Did you?
You came for the punch and to be carried by a dancer
At least for a little while
And when the buzz wore off
You followed me home anyway,
But you wanted to stand outside in the rain
Indecisiveness indicative of your cowardice
Pleasure less important than the familiar comfort of pain

This is a smile, my dear

Something I should’ve known for a while, my dear

No comments: