balter aimlessly
let's dance infamously
no rest in the room for eternal minutes
oh just spin us
counting the rhythm on our extra digits
this movement is more like fidgeting
moonwalking with iridecent souls
the feet kick and squirm and meet the knee
a bend of the neck, of the elbow
until you're hands meet me
in the middle
the fidget winds to a fiddle,
sudden like we're syncing
a drift saved from break by interlocking steps unperformed
together the dance, never grew worn,
although it's nothing less, it's nothing more

© 2015 Kate Volk