Dancing in my seat

I swiveled my hips below the table
as I guess you do too
when no one is looking,
keeping my own beat
to a song blaring into morning.
I don’t know if anyone else hears it
but that is not my concern.
I don’t know how I keep going
some days, only that it feels
like an imperative, like I’m being pushed
by unseen forces to turn and turn
and turn again, like the seasons
beneath the sun. Hot, curious, silly, sick,
it’s all there in the beat, in my hips.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s