Jan 02

background music iii

eyes closed in lackluster solemnity, 
hand outstretched to the floor
leg aimed to the heavens
fabric around her waist, falling,
she dances.

the brassy tones of the trumpets do nothing, 
her spins and twirls so graceful
not even touching the ground, 
bending to pick up a tear and let it
trickle down her arm

the cellos and the violas play together
but she, but you, are apart 
moving with yet against at the same time
you don't belong, she doesn't belong
not with them, not with the music

notes not meant to be danced to, no
but you, she, manage it somehow,
frills of yellow on your skin and silver shoes on your feet
nothing affects you, her, her and your inner beat
as you two flicker apart and the scene fades

your, her, eyes open, alike and yellow and hazel
split down the middle, parted by each other
as the orchestra stops
bows in the air in a heightened loop
to no applause as it's not her anymore, it's you.

our studio apartment, me, you in your old, loose shirt
sweat dancing as you were, cheeks flushed 
you smile, music only we can hear
starting up again.