dance #3

my hands on her hips,
the electronic billboard
meaningless social feed on the screen,
we’re hovering slowly above

cracked asphalt. pulsating blood
in her veins, sets the
rhythm for a tango,
her cheek is next to my cheek.

umbilical cord, tied limbs,
perforated appendix is leaking
dreadful conscience on the heads
of the mass, bliss.

trivial passion, jittery vision
is changing every two minutes,
cataplexy. do we have a time for
one more dance?


2 thoughts on “dance #3

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