You said That she is but a stationary girl whose rigidity provokes the unwelcome dance of others. The solemn waltz. A sultry sorted salsa. But who is to say she can not dance That she does not dance A brazen fire of amorphous movement
Temporarily chilled in quiescence
Contained within the confines of a fabricated box An assembled ballerina chained and bonded to the metallic rod of society’s construction. La construcción tuya. You need but open the lid to hear my song. To see the girl that both spins and stills. DANCE ALONG. I implore you. DANCE ALONG You must DANCE ALONG To the counterfeit steps of the inexorable womb waltz