Most dances are cries. Try to pin them in place.
Look away from ash—a boy and a girl
loving that boy: screams and statues
flash-frozen against a night sky bleached white.
You and I are flesh. We slam together under a disco ball
moon that shreds the clouds. Our verbing legs reverb rhythm.
Light gilds your teeth. Another house shatters. The radio wobbles.
Chuck D. demands we fight the power and my hips swivel
a battle cry. As long as our feet pound
ground we’re alive. The night shines. We explode.
We blink out the shine and darkness re-dawns.
The alarms die. Evening spreads: a patient bleeding on a table.
No ether. Dogs bark. I catch your mouth
with mine, eat vapor, and know tonight we die.