Our bodies moved side by side,
the old love song played in the background.

Your hand was on my delicate waist,
a kiss on my forehead is all it takes,
to make our hearts burn intensely,
the night where the stars shine brightly,
are the best nights of my life.

We would hold each other until the music stops,
we would wish the music never stops.

somehow, right now,
it’s winter and i’m wrapped in your embrace.
somehow, it’s winter and we’re all wearing brown,
sitting on soft couches and listening,
pretending we’re oh so smart,
when really?
we’re oh,
so
young.

and all our hearts, they’re strewn across the floor,
all our work is forgotten,
as we kiss and touch and watch the snow fall,
and sit down to dinner,
where we slow dance -in the living room,
then wrap our arms around each other,
repeat the same songs on some ancient tape player.

those slow drumbeats, the soft jazz notes,
the growing thrum of this cursed city
-the one we danced to? sank into the sheets with?
this, this is where we got lost in us.
with the snowfall outside and, who would have noticed
that we smell like something other than fall candles.

i grin, and we grab our things off the floor,
and laugh it off. somehow, we know this place,
it’ll always be our home. after all,
sweaters cover our marks in a way sun-clothes can’t,
don’t they darling?

now, soft skin, pearlescent,
seems like some sort of luxury, a wish made during yule,
something i can only share with you,
because truly, i don’t think i’d want to share this cold place,
unless they were you.

and as we waltz to slow music, as we plan, as we laugh,
as we sit down in the candles,
i think i’m falling all over again,
because your eyes look hodded in the light,
your skin inviting, your mouth soft,
and your smile makes me wish you’d swallow me whole.

You’ve left me there,
In the dark-
With all of the demons of my past.
They’ve held me captive in those shadows,
And they continued to-
While you waltzed into the light.

                           Alysia Marie 2018 ©

Listen,
    Think,
         and Speak!
              
Is the steps
           to answer

So don't just
      waltz your lips!
           
It's not a dancer.

My room does not
evolve or become;
it morphs instantly and before your eyes.
Things move and fly they burn and cry.  

I watch as a dust devil conquers invades
Two minutes later,
waltzing brooms on parade.

I stuff my room full of
glass metal wood.
Some would say hoarding
I reply misunderstood.

Most of the glass is pretty much broken,
the wood is all scorched, the metal contorted.
All of its stays because my hand has spoken.

My room is a magical place replete with spirits and souls and little doors to inner-space.

It likes to listen to music, the scent of a dog... It begs to get ****** off a good Sensi fog.

My room inspires my hands to create...
Whether with torches or pencil, hammers or lathes.

I often ponder
what will become
of my room when I die?
Perhaps as I come back
to bid farewell....
I'll leave a piece of my soul to guard it at night

I would rather write
About this world than
Live in it

I would rather play
Music all day and read
Or wander around

Or waltz into bookstores
And run my hands along
The wooden shelves

I would rather remain
Indifferent to the world
That exists around me

I would rather watch
Humans than actually
Be one of them.

Two dancers entangled
Found themselves in flight
Magnets across hips
They collided in the night.

He lifted his hand and
She opposed open palm
Their breaths synchronized,
They shot off arm in arm

Their sways became one
Their footwork a mirror
But while chests warmed with passion,
Their minds became clearer.

Their smiles dissolved,
Though it might be perfection...
Alas they let go–
Each despised their reflection.

Twisted, complicated steps
Of a graceful waltz;
I’d fall if not for my partner;
Where? I’m not sure.
I’d say into the dark, but its day.
If only I weren’t afraid to be lost.
Wandering mind, twirling thoughts,
Startling clarity, the center of the eye.
I see only a jagged edge of red ribbon,
Caught fast in your affectionate hands,
Woven from our bleeding hearts.
I could be bound tight by you;
Blinded by spinning visions,
Of a maddening waltz
The strings of music bind and tighten.

In the viscous ichor of tryptophan
Steal me away for a moment
Lead my endless toes
Eyes behind a waving fan

In an empty ballroom, paired electron
share our energetic light
In the everlasting yearning mind

With regal flow you go
Silk water against the door
Dream of me you sweet pea
Soon again with you I'll be

It hates for me to see you go
a fake alone particulate door
Dream of you far past adieu
And yet let no man aware of thee.