That ballerina thought keeps spinning,

Defying gravity and entropy,

Setting physics aside to allow the thread of possibilities to wind on up

against the spindle of ‘what if’

These are frames on the tv that you leant me,

Slow-motion and perfectly lit.

Watching someone’s vision of someone else’s dreams

being drawn in and ordered,

kept safe and restricted,

under centuries of intricate binding.

I wasn’t sure if I was meant to be part of the corps,

Sequestering and controlling possibilities,

Refusing to stop spinning and let the paths unwind.

But I’m getting dizzy from the thin air,

Tired from balancing on a retracting string

Of promises.

Someone please stop the pirouette and give that girl a damned cigarette.


© Accidental Tentacles 2017

2 thoughts on “Arabesque

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