Shall We Dance?

Shall we dance
you and I?
In this marketplace
this dance floor of the repetitive,
cheap wine and thin conversation,
firmly draped in a gaudy bright coat and hung with thin tinfoil medals of cleverness.
They will tarnish quickly
and clutch crookedly
 crumpled on the lapel,
but this one nights sheen is all that’s needed.
Shall we dance
you and I?
In desperation,
and mutual blind eye turning,
and ignore the monsters in the closet together.
We sometimes sit forever in the eye of the hurricane
because the storms frighten us
and we know how to stay still,
we know how to get lost,
and pride alone is never enough to keep us warm. 
Shall we dance
you and I?
Until the sinking feeling of the rising sun,
when the cheap wine stains can be seen clearly
 with the rusted safety pins marks on a shabby coat
pinned on with such conscious avoidance.
Need has left on it’s own walk of shame,
and over wide smiles and glassy sharp quips
are all that lingers
to hold this mornings tatters in place.
Until the next evening…
when the dance floor throws its doors wide open,
and the tinny jukebox whines its invitation out into the lonely streets,
and once again,
we look for a partner to hold hands with,
 however briefly,
to stay the closet handle from turning.
Shall we?
Shall we dance?



About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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2 Responses to Shall We Dance?

  1. Tara M says:

    Great imagery.. lovely poem

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