I'm a heavy-footed twinkle-toes.
Twinkling only to fall flat on my face.
Grace is quite becoming.
(A trait that I lack)
Up on my tip toes
thumping around like a giant.
Classic, classy, classless, classed.
I am violet turning violet, violet
violent.
Pirouetting onto my ass.
I salsa'd right down my shirt.
A stain, a pain, complaining
of soreness, stiffness,
of can-canned recycling.
Gone rotten (expired).
I have no beat because
I miss it I can't hear it
I can't feel it I can't sense it
I spin around around and around
until I fall, dizzy, lindy-hopped
over me and I don't know which way is up.
But I move my hips and wiggle my chest
and pout my lips and close my eyes and
care to dance, partner?














Comments
This is so awesome.
--
~Member of the 3eyes club! Inanely Inspired Insanity [link]~
We picked strawberry peaches
where fields smelled like lemon.
but I do like to boogie.
--
Mufasa? I thought that bitch was dead!
Check out :The Writers Nook, and Word Count. Good communities for writers!
Who doesn't?
--
~Member of the 3eyes club! Inanely Inspired Insanity [link]~
We picked strawberry peaches
where fields smelled like lemon.
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