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Carlo C Gomez Apr 21
Ziegfield girls with Gatling guns
in complete synchronization,
decked out in Erté.
Watch your step, soldier,
for what's often considered foreplay.

Much like Peter and the Wolf,
one thing leads to another
on this daisy chain,
and as you know,
Burke's only jealous of Lorainne.

I'll tell you what,
dress warm for the ******* snowstorm,
and there'll be a place alongside
such an ingenue.
But what a terrible let down
it would be to find out
she was always smarter than you.
Erté (pronounced AIR TAY): Romain de Tirtoff's pseudonym; he was a 20th-century artist and designer in an array of fields, including fashion, jewellery, costume and set design for film, theatre, and opera.
Bell Apr 16
yestereve we succame
A lengthy ballad of longing
formerly one of obstinance
flared in a cacophony of passion

Whilst usually twirling in a seemly epitome fashion,
yestereve a caprice thought laid heavy on hearts
as there was no doubt of desire
nor were there objections to her
for even when my affections consumed you
lady desire was just an inexorable

yestereve she picked petals from a Sinensis blossom
there went the pain
any semblance of grudge
along with sanity
reason
and lastly, the walls as carefully constructed as that of Pyramus and Thisbe's
such vulnerability unmatched
for your sweet scent lulled me from the arms of reason
for reason, although safe,
is the most intricate and fragile part of the ballad
and the first to fall victim to the cascade

What a fool I must be to have gladly forgotten the kinks of your hands
or the freckles on the back of your neck that form a perfect triad.
The way your upper lip curls when you grin
made my glissade blissful and passionate
Your flustered twirl
the very epitome of aubade

Ignorant of the harsh retombe of reality
Your flustered face En L'air
Every touch a pleasant surprise that formed a grand symphony

A moment of unfiltered emotion
A heavenly ballad
so cruelly of yestereve.
twas hard to replicate this feeling after knowing how it all ends
Estel Apr 12
A slender figure
Wrapped in a flowing fortress of red
Twirling around
In the world of peace
It’s all forgotten
Till the figure stands still
The music stops
And the red hangs down
Like a weeping tree
Alas life must go on.
Ten Mercado Mar 29
sayaw, Eriko

isayaw mo lahat ng
sinabi niyang “mahal kita”
na pakiramdam mo’y totoo
nung mga panahong
umaalis kayo ng
isang araw kada-linggo
kasi dinadayo ka pa niya
sa Maynila

sayaw, Eriko

iindak mo at
isigaw mo sa mikropono
ang pabulong niya pa
noong unang sinabi,
“ako na lang,
iingatan naman kita”
sa maulan na gabi na ‘yun
noong iniiyakan mo
pa ang mga pangyayari
na kinagigitnaan mo

isayaw mo, Eriko

itawa mo lang ang sinayaw
niya sa sala mo
noong gabi na ‘yun
mashed-potato lang kuno
‘di ba?

halakhak, napamahal
ka sa mukha niyang
parang pinigang tuwalya noon
hindi naman siya guwapo
gaya ng lagi niyang sinasabi

umaray ka, Eriko

nasipa ka ng katabi mo,
pero naalala mo lamang
ang mga oras na nagsisipa
ka ng bato sa Makati
habang naglalakad kayo,
at kinukwento niya
ang pamumuhay niya noon
sa malayong lugar,
pawis na pawis kayo
pero ngiti niyo’y abot langit

talon, Eriko
palakpak

ilang buwan na rin ang lumipas
noong huli kayo nagkausap
binati mo siya ng
maligayang kaarawan,
kahit ang araw mo nun ay
malayong-malayo sa maligaya,
kapos sa saya,
kapayapaa’y nahahanap
mo lamang pag nandiyan ang
barkada

kalma,
inom ng tubig,
Eriko, kawayan ang bote ng alak,
pero huwag kang lalaklak

hinga,

ipanalangin mo na lang na siya’y
maging masaya,
dahil alam mo naman na
iyon ang tama.
10/8/18
Rea Feb 28
what if after all this time
i still want to slow dance in the dark?
with trembling fingers and pinching high heels.
to feel light behind my eyelids,
knowing it doesn't come from the outside,
but from within.
purple, rolling storm clouds.
stars on hardwood floors.
so let's dance in a moonlit room, darling.
Juno Feb 22
There’s a specific rhythm to dancing
which only a dancer knows.
The thrill of a strong jump,
or a good pointing of the toes.

A tap of pointe shoes on the floor
where usually sounds a thunk,
or the success of a hard spin
when you thought you’d run out of luck.
I bend
and you extend,
collarbones to the ceiling.
Beads of sweat glisten
and the whole world watches.

Vinyl catching fire
beneath the curling and scuffing
of our toes.
Struggling against each other
to gain control.

You leap out of reach
and I am distorted,
left alone to face piano trills
and nameless faces.
I grasp blindly but of course
you find me,
trapping me in the fermata.

I break free and spin for the wings
but you ****** my slender wrist.
My veins bulge as the music turns desperate,
a spattering of minor chords
as my heart breaks,
and a major longing emerges.

A lift to the heavens and I taste the sun
again were in sync.
Wrists sprained and lungs deflated
we continue this endless waltz
for the rest
of
time.
Kaitlin Evers Jan 31
See the colours
Vibrant hues
Look into the mirror, it's you
Paintings on the wall
How far did you fall
Before you realized you were changing
And not just rearranging
Welcome back to you
Dancing bright and true
Unhaunted, undaunted
Clear and breaking through
With the spring I've sprung anew
So much I wish I could undo
Somehow I'll let it go
A set of seasons done and gone
And now I'm moving on
Bea Burnett Jan 30
I move from room to room,
A phantom in the morning sun

I move to fill the vacant,
I move to fill the stillness,
I move to mirror my interior.

Restless in the comfort of silk,
Confined to the four walls of my brain,
I move to an irregular beat,
My feet dance across the negative space,
Fingers outstretched to nothingness

Maybe if I move,
Maybe if I manifest,
I’ll find tactility,
Maybe,
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