the twostep o’the lifedance

I think I’m gonna take my lust to the taxidermy.
I figured it would make a far greater impact as an heirloom
than a way of life.
Stories toss themselves between my ears
awkward and numb
like the nats that chose chaos for a living.
I’m considering resigning from my livelihood in chaos.
I figured it’d look better on a resume
than if the powers that be fired me.

There have been times
when this world has tear-drop-kicked my head off
and over my heals.
Now is not one of them.
Now my fingers tell me they’ve forgotten
how to move in any other way than verse.
They tell me this is all a dance, to not forget,
but I keep stepping on toes.
How awkward.
So I choose to skip stones on the dancefloor instead.

I always took love as something
which could give me refuge from a made up storm.
I’m finding it is a hurricane.
It is pithy, and it is punchy,
and it is without remorse.
So I’m learning to kiss the ground
that holds me again.