empire burlesque

what it all comes down to
in the end
are the beginnings

the way we twist in the air
hanging by a thread
or something altogether more refined

like the souls
of our shoes
and the poles
that hold the axis

we play all night
making music
with organs
we dangle
from a chain
like charms
like satisfaction
like tying me up
to set me free

we are not waiting to be saved
and even if we were
we are the ones we’ve been waiting for
we are not hung
we are just hanging

we are not hanging by a thread
the thread is hanging onto us
it is only by our weight that it is made tight
given a purpose greater than its limp magic

we give the tools we use
the names by which they are useful
a way that they can be found
a form that helps us function

hard like the softest things
soft like the things that make it hard
we fit into so many spaces
we are always inside something

i am inside you
and you me
a gift given accidentally
without even knowing we are there




  1. even though you “don’t really like poetry‽” ;)

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