Steel / words / 2012 / Trim

June 28, 2012

Heated dance.
Billowing hair.
	Her look.
In my locked cell.
She gives me grace.
Spaced shoulders.
	Pumping…
This is her crowd.
By the hand,
	She takes me.
I feel her sweat.
	Her heat takes me.
Jumping,
	Her look. unfolds my world.
And the way she is
	Makes me wonder what will be.
Supple responsibility.
	In here.  We are partners.
	Assembled whole.
A problem is just a label.
We see the stage for what it is.
	And assume our varied roles.
	Shaking her head.
I know she feels it too.
										Wait… is that a fight over there?