Dance On the Margin

Hold out arms, hands and fingertips, spread shoulders…shake loose. If you’re not clouded by flesh you’ll feel it - your verge shifts, sometimes an inch, sometimes a million miles. A bright brim begins to look at the stars as if they were your own eyes looking back. You might even shoot inward into your own glitzy center. Maybe Her tulle skirt, and sparkly, silver, magnetic panties will draw you into Her cosmic Ferris wheel. All this is just over the tip of a reach, the brink of a fingernail, where you ride the milky cosmos seeding worlds with the art of your mind. Let yourself border on the fringe, the hem, the flossy slip of Her short sassy skirt - shimmy a while. Elderly men have been known to dance a step or two right there at the glitter-edge of life, as they fall for the same girl. again, and again.