Poetry

still dancing

Try to be really still and silent

you can’t do it

your intercostal muscles will disobey

spreading your ribs apart to let air into you

soon you will feel your own heart

the slippery metronome by which you must live

it’s enduring rhythm making thousands of blood vessels throb

if you’re alive you’re still dancing and singing

dancing is not something you can aspire to, it is you

your insides are near fever at 98 degrees

in the most metaphorical, poetic way you’re alive and on fire

even if all you can move is your eyelashes

you’re still dancing

and the best part is that when you die

the molecules that comprise you will continue dancing

the best part is that they who are you cannot stop moving

try to be perfectly still

even in death you cannot do it

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