when i was young, i knew
(with more belief than i had in my own name)
that i would dance ballet
and i danced ballet, attempting
each spin, each hopeful leap
gaining slivers in my knees each time i fell
and keeping them there, proof
that i had flown

but i fell more often than i flew
and one day, i just knew
(with no tears, only a firm nod of the head)
that someone out there would always fly higher
than i ever could
so i just turned the music up
and let my fingers tap out the rhythm
and to this day i close my eyes
and let the neurons dance inside me
electric current, steady pulse of a bassline
mirroring my heartbeat
inside my head, my feet are light
even to metal, or to some quiet, hollow guitar
i don't touch the ground

and now, still young
i know
(with more belief than i have in any concrete thing)
that in this silly metaphor
we can dance to choreography
or just make it up as we go
and me?
i let the music show me
where to step