Dancing with strangers to not feel alone,
not grinding on their knees or near their beer sweat stink,
but lost amidst the crowd on old stones set atop
the hills of yesterday's efforts.
I'm dancing on a generation of blood soaked into mortarlike crying pain
to join bricks crushed by hearts like mine: not open
to dancing together, but alone.
I can take feel your eyes on my hips,
not even needing to undress me I move
so well like a sinuous flow you feel
under the table as if I'm already riding you.
Read this, and other work at my website: https://jocelynlily.com