Everyone has on their best dress,
Sunday afternoon,
Sitting in the pew.
I went rolling in the mud,
And soiled my sleek black shoes.

They all sing along to the same tune
Stand and sit down; Unity.
My voice is out of tune,

Give me a minute.

The sun poked its head in the world,
Laid itself on the open beach,
Soaked in it’s rays
And basked in the light,
Only it can give,
Never burnt, but always shining.
Remembered the old friends she used to see;
she remembered me.

The sun stepped into my home,
And asked for a cup of tea.

“No,” I said, “I am not used to the flames
And your light is too blinding for me right now.”

“But I never get to see you, I miss you. Let me stay awhile.”

“Fine, but only if you take a shower.”

My neck is sore,
My feet aches,
My head pounds,

But my body moves,
Circle,
     Jump,
          Pace,
A need to touch and be touched.

Music unfiltered gyrations:
Flapping,
       Squeezing,
                     Wandering fingers
Hands grabbing onto thin air.

I need to move.
I need to feel.

Slap,       punch,           pull,
My skin is turning red.

I need to move,
I need to feel.

Spastic convulsion.

These are the moments I feel crazy.

My neck is sore,
My feet aches,
My head pounds.

I need to move.
I need to feel.
I want to stop.

Hope wastes away,
In between minutes,
Seconds away from bad decisions.

Love gives way,
To new things;
But the old,
Has a certain hold.

How the wind chases after the frolic
Of youth, given into dying leaves.

The forest air is changing colors quickly,
I barely saw the bees buzzing in heat,
Now the trees are growing barren; empty.

Found grave beauty in the naked forest.

But fairies do not dance the same without,
The timbrels of spring twirling through the air.