I don't like being left
under the bed
no thoughts
no memories
no love

...not a drop....

It's dusty down here.

But there is that moment.

You know, when feet come stomping into the room like a herd of elephants- there are only two- and the noise is so deafening until they stop in front of the table. The table that holds the radio.

Then the silence.
Oh, the silence is even worse.

But then....the fingers reach up like the ****** down in hell and press the triangular button that speaks of hope and peace.

They press play.

And I am no longer dust.

The feet skip around the bed, dancing to the beat and screaming the lyrics until they are worn with love.

The air picks me up, and I am no longer dust.

I, too, can dance.