Dickinson-esque poem i wrote for humanities. (aka lame excuse for a post)
The twisting, turning, chiming
Of that great grandfather time
Called to me in the dancing
Hands of syncopated mime.
Sturdy, precise
And spinning sprint revolving fast,
The two-armed piece
Whelmed and hypnotized me at last.
Mesmerize; at once one and apart
Twirling together the swift fox trots
With the other soft lethargic heart.
The perpetual whirls til I've forgot.
While the brevities turn the hours 'tick,'
The shorter marks the differences.
The steps of the tango that cross, kick,
Weave to circumnavigate the inches.
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