The Dance

'Not stooping
dancing
'Not squirming at the end of a bright, barbed gaff
I'm dancing

'Not a flesh musician, in the dark hours
Stroking away at a tired instrument
'Not scrawping the wounds of a thousand flea-feasts
I'm dancing

'Not stopping the dance
Just because you think I look awkward
Just because you can't find the rhythm
I'm dancing

© 2005 Kahdoosch