When She Dances (Poetry)

29th January 2012
WHEN SHE DANCES

her body does more than match
the stencilled shape of rhythms —
every atom of her hangs —
curled round the sound as though
each note has hooks
that catch upon her spine
and tug — stretch the threadling
nerves drawn swift
as she becomes the current — flowing —
describing the blue jazz ache
of every sorrow — hope — dream-dashed
and breathless. Her face
a mirror to the mood — a mask
the drug of music paints upon her —
she swims through air
her figure mapping out thin
parabolas that snag on sudden
discords — change the pace —
she measures every half-beat
her body melts with life’s disharmonies
transmutes the whole world’s pain
like she’s committed some rare act
of sorcery.