The Room

Floating
Cold
An old archway
A field
Ice in the air

The dance
The eyes
The doorway
Smells of another home

When you are a child
You listen to talking as a song
Not words

Running
Like a POV camera
Your foot hits the earth
You and the earth shake together.

You looked at me
Full of the dance
Full of fresh blood
Intoxicated
Not bursting but swimming
In the half light

Your friends dragged you away
A rock fell into the sea
A star died

Someone turned off their TV
And sat a while in the dark
Remembering something
They hadn't thought about for many years.

All these faces
So many faces
So few words for us.

Looking at furniture
In a quiet moment
Is all some of us can hope for.

The maypole
The carousel
The Venetian ball
Pupils like black whirpools
At midnight
Forcing those who would rather forget
To remember
And shudder a little
Over their beer
When the whole city
Has become a waiting room.

Dance.