Page 17 - Contrast1979v22n2

Water Dancing This song ends, and we walk
from the dance floor, our hands
My left hand engulfs memory-forged together.
your right, our fingers The D.J. is burning the dark air
imprint each other's knuckles; with jackhammer basslines & strobe lights.
My right hand lightly strokes We rest, sit it out
your satin-smooth blouse, yours watch other weave hands and arms
rests like a sleeping kitten to music,
on my shoulder. the silver mirror ball
mottles the floor and ceiling
We rotate, step by step with colored lights;
by careful step, your cracked-china I squeeze your hand
ankle-bone can only take a short farewell,
so many soft jars, say I want to see other people;
and you say I dance you smile an
twice as well
as you expected. I'll be allright
with your eyes, and I thread away
I can see, even as I knowing you are washed clean,
tumble into your eyes, acid free,
that he is still and so am 1.
staring over your shoulder,
asking whether you need T. Lee Maxwell
your ace-bandage rewrapped,
and how are you lasting 15
without him?

I finally fall into step
stop concentrating on my shoes
flow to your measure.
Disco lights flash
as intimately as the lightman
can flick switches.
I ask you how you've been
you reply fine, but tired
and a little more weight
flows into your hand
resting on my shoulder

I feel again that night
you held onto me, tried not to fall
into that pool of bile
he pushed you towards,
while sniffing his own
red roses, and how you said
you'd send him that journal
of all you'd learned
swimming in acid. We always seem
to wash acid from each other
with holy water, better than any
traveling rosewater salesman.