After the Dance
elbow to elbow no room to breathe
in this place i once thought an escape
missing her more each day
and each passing moment
brown children with vaseline
greased scalps peer expectantly
at this strange newcomer
vampire handsome and strange intellect
my weakness must be apparent
fore they trust me
dancing with the devil isn't a tango
it's a tangle
our innocence ensnared
like a scared fragile rabbit
pulse racing
silken brown fur clamped
between iron rusty jaws
moving like the blood of the hare
between each strand of hair
i avoid their queries of life
after the dance
Copyright © Brian Anderson | Year Posted 2009
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