"The room blurs
and I’m in love again"
from today's offering, "Cha Cha – cape corners" by fellow dancer, poet, and novelist Christine Klocek-Lim.
Cha Cha — cape corners
by Christine Klocek-Lim
She speaks of imaginary walls.
I think of invisible fences. Turn this way,
then that. How to get where I’m supposed to be?
The mirrors are fools. I can’t see anything.
I swivel my hips and the bones creak.
Trees laugh outside while he lifts my arms.
I slip into the first spin,
hands tangled overhead.
Like magic, she says.
The room blurs
and I’m in love again, or falling
in love. My heart doesn’t know it should be careful.
I snap my feet like diamond earrings,
expensive and brilliant. I’m a child
with a silver rattle. Cymbals
clashing in the wind.
The floor shiny as a disco
yet I’m so dizzy I can’t remember the beginning
of the party. He drops me into the right spot,
hips tilted just so, hair askew
as I face the half-wall, then the quarter,
then the half again only to spin into
a chassé, hands tucked
so my heart doesn’t
fall out, glittering
like a top.
* * * * *
"Cha Cha – cape corners" is from Ballroom — a love story (Flutter Press, 2012).
Christine Klocek-Lim won the 2009 Ellen La Forge Memorial Prize in poetry. When she's not reading poetry for Autumn Sky Poetry DAILY, she writes novels (Disintegrate, Who Saw the Deep) and is an acquiring editor for Evernight Teen and Evernight Publishing.