Passing around a dash
of defiance;
of quick decadence,
to the next pair of feet;
tapping,
twirling,
trampling on
some last minute
Sanities.
The floors light up,
cradling every
inch of movement
so the spectres don’t last.
They’re huddled together
like darkness
peeled open;
flaps of unknown
Skin,
soaked in willful
Thrill.
Call this sexy
or call this porn
but they’ll bring it all the
way around by calling it
A r t.
So they packaged it,
selling it to anyone
and everyone
who has forgotten
what it’s like
to
Forget.
