Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Dancing Girl

Without - 92 words
Sarah Van Name

in the smoke of Friday night
you move with the motion of water from a backyard spigot.
your skin is lace, through which I note
the silk slip of your blood. red your lips.
flushed your cheeks.

you are rooted to the center of the earth,
smoke moves between the tall grass
of your eyelashes.

and the drums pound and sway,
hold out empty hands – empty, eager for you
to fill. but your secrets are your own,
the things without which, like fire
and oxygen, you would be unable
to draw breath.

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