Use rusty scissors
to cut open your skin.
That skin bag is too hot,
too constricting.

But once you step out of your flesh
you feel coldness seep in to your bones.
You are a skeleton.
A dancing skeleton.

Twirl, dip, bow.
Dance your way across the stones
and in to hearts
that now miss you, strangely.

They call for you
but you ignore them.
The twirling skeleton keeps on twirling.
It twirls in to its own world.