Thursday, November 12, 2009


We dance, he and I.
We dance in and out of the real,
the imagined,
and tear at the seams.
I reach for him and he skips away,
A shadow of yesterdays.
I feel him slipping,
the whisper of clothing sliding between my fingers.
Hands cramping and fingers splayed I scrabble in desperation.
Bring him closer.

We dance, he and I.
It is ugly and broken.
Our limbs akimbo, we gyrate and sweat.
We curse, we grimace and we hate.
I struggle for the fluid motions of moments gone
While he struggles to find what he has lost.
We spin and the world melts to blur,
Images doubled and distorted, trailing away like the laughter of innocence.

We fall, he and I.
In a jumble of arms and legs we lie piecemeal,
kneeling on pride and crushing spirit.
In a heap I dig,
Fingernails ragged and dirty
Beneath the hate and the ugly and the arms and the legs.
Seeping from between hurt pride and broken spirits I know it hides.

We cry, he and I.
Shattered and crushed beneath turmoil and fear.
Panic flutters in his breast and helplessness stays my heart.
We drown in the layers I've exposed,
ugly and broken.
In a chemical haze, we tumble.
Darkened. Lost. Looking.
For the elusive Mickey Blue.

Don't worry. Mommy will find you once again.

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