A Ballroom Really


I.
Now it’s a barn, a ballroom really
the posts wait,
lit by beams of dust

II.
She pushes me against
the wall, holding me
up entirely

III.
On the phone the faces hang,
mouths open, talking
I cannot hear anything through the window

IV.
the shadow of me
pushes back against my shoes
no matter how fast I walk

V.
the night windows
spill yellow light
I step around

VI.
the lines of some sidewalks
make deep sense
constantly saying something

VII.
the bridge
wider than it seems
when I walk over it

VIII
Nothing I now know
looks the same
from the river

Friday Fictioneers

 

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7 Replies to “A Ballroom Really”

  1. Is your MC hallucinating? In a drug-induced state of some kind? Your imagery is fascinating, but I’m having some trouble understanding what’s actually happening here.

Whatever.

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